


Uptown Girl

by Oienel



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Army, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-01 19:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oienel/pseuds/Oienel
Summary: You are an uptown girl living in white bread world, while Jongdae is downtown man, sure that he is exactly what you are looking for, and he might be quite right.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another oldie, but goldie, and I have so much fun while writing it. Obviously title from the song Uptown Girl, which obviously inspired the work.

It started innocently, like all things do. The air in the Hollows was stale and hot, as it always was in the middle of summer. Children were running around barefoot, oblivious to debris pushed under the walls still marked with dark patterns made by fire and bombs. Tram number two was rolling slowly down the middle of the street, observed intently by group of teenage boys standing in the gate, wearing checkered cabbie caps, suspenders and red bandannas around necks.

Locals took to calling these boys insurgents – as they surged in numbers after the war ended – young crafty fellows, that were too young to remember the war, and not old enough to bare the responsibility of taking care of the fatherless family.

They took to the streets, Hollow welcoming all of those _crooked_ citizens.

Hollow, was indeed a _hollow_. Located just next to bank of river flowing down the city, always flooded during spring time, it was poorest and most dangerous part of the city, clearly separated from the better parts of the town by the hills on one side and river on the other.

On the hill, there was the _Uptown_ and on the other side of the river the _Little City_. The wealthiest lived in Uptown, the middle class took into their reign Little City, and the rest dwelled in Hollows. The only time those two other casts appeared in Hollows was when then needed to go from Uptown to Little City, or the other way around, since all the traffic routes led through Hollows.

That’s why little thieves observed tram number two with such ferocity – those inside weren’t locals. Those were schnooks. And schnooks were targets.

Thieves don’t live by many rules, but there are few rules that they abide by – you don’t target one of your own, and you don’t rat on others.

“Oranges! Oranges!” Could be heard over the rumble of the tram, and one of the boys looked around to find the street vendor. He localized the cart, and then he patted another boy to show him the vendor. The other boy, fixed his cap, and patted him back on the arm, and the two of them went out of the shadow.

First boy was walking faster, leaving the other behind him, and he reached the street vendor, looking suspicious. He stopped few steps from the oranges and he eyed them nervously, clearly checking out the vendor.

The vendor didn’t react, packing oranges for the real customer, but his eyes flickered to the boy – vendor was no dickhead, he could recognize a thief.

The moment, when vendor extended bag with oranges to his customer, boy surged forward, grabbing few oranges and started running away. Obviously, vendor jumped from behind the cart, running after the thief, yelling obscenities.

Young boy looked behind him, and threw away stolen oranges, now only wanting to get away from furious vendor. Crowd around the cart focused on the boy, and truth be told, all of them rooted for the boy deep down. They watched the scene, as the boy reached high fence, as he jumped onto it, and then over it – which was too hard for the vendor to copy, so he settled on throwing few more obscenities.

After that he turned around, gathered oranges that the boy tried to steal, and went back to his cart – quite proud with himself.

What he didn’t know was the fact, that when he and the crowd were focusing on the boy, the other one slowly came to the cart, filled his duffel bag with oranges, and slowly walked away, disappearing behind the corner.

He reached a small square in between the buildings and he slid into a narrow alley, where the other boy was already waiting, face still red from the run.

“Long enoof.” Slured the boy, and Junmyeon shrugged at him.

“Ain’t naw point ter hurry.” He said, and Jongdae rolled his eyes at Junmyeon and grabbed the duffel bag, yanking it off his friend’s back. He yanked it open and reached into it, grabbing an orange. He quickly peeled it, throwing bits of skin on the pavement, and soon enough he was biting into it, juice dripping down his hand and his chin.

“Split ‘alf an’ ‘alf.” Demanded Jongdae, mouth filled with pulp. Junmyeon showed him obscene gesture he learned from his sister, and he yet knew the meaning behind it, but his friend understood the meaning behind it, and shrugged, throwing his own duffel bag on the pavement, and looking around to check if there were still alone.

Junmyeon turned his bag upside down, and the oranges rolled out of it – then he simultaneously packed both bags, making sure to divide squarely. The last one, he took for himself – in the end, Jongdae was already eating one.

“Oi says, it is a one good day, eh?” Said Jongdae grabbing his bag, and throwing it over his shoulder. It was indeed a good day – their bags filled with sweet oranges – half of them they would bring home, the other half they would sell for few cents – to buy bread, milk, maybe even some butter if they haggled skillfully enough.

Junmyeon only shrugged, and tapped his cap with forefinger in one-finger salute, and then he was off. Jongdae didn’t look after him. Junmyeon was his man, they both knew where they live, they knew their family’s situation, and they took to stealing together.

Junmyeon was particularly skilled in lock-picking, while Jongdae preferred pickpocketing, but they met back in school, lead by S. There were lots of school like that – where they learned reading, writing, counting, and stealing. They were led by retired thieves, and young disciples paid for training with stolen goods.

The school lasted two years and after _graduation_ , Jongdae, Junmyeon and two other boys: Baekhyun and Minseok, started hanging out together – stealing in group was safer, easier, and more fruitful. That was Jongdae’s bunch.

Jongdae looked up at the sun, and decided it’s a time to go home. He once had a pocket-watch. He stole it from some schnook, back in school, and he hid it from his teacher – the pocket-watch was too valuable to be used as a payment for school. He used it for about a week, before selling it to a fence. He knew he was scammed by the fence, but he still made enough to feed his family for four months.

His mother nearly cried when he brought meat from the butcher.

He lived on the ground floor of the half-destroyed four stories tenement house. It was hit by a bomb during the war, destroying one side of the building, but the other side was perfectly livable. His family owned two-room flat, where he lived with his mother, grandmother and two younger sisters. His father was killed during the war, and his grandfather disappeared one night, and they never heard from him again.

And just like that he became head of the family, although he was just ten when war ended. Three years later he wasn’t a _sole_ breadwinner of their family, but he definitely made the most – with his mother working as a washerwife, and his grandmother taking care of the twins and tending to a small vegetable patch they made under their kitchen window.

Jongdae walked down the maze of the half-destroyed, dirty buildings. He held his head high, he was on his turf, wearing the red bandanna and cabbie cap, he was telling everybody who mattered that he was home.

“Oi, lad!” He suddenly heard, and he turned to the caller. Under one of the walls there were two men, putting up posters. There was something interesting about them, that made Jongdae stop.

“Ay, yer, lad! C’mere!” They weren’t wearing cabbie caps nor bandannas – one of them wore tie and a hat! It screamed schnook, but they were speaking like Jongdae, which confused him. His eyes flickered to the poster on the wall. It was simple, and quick read through told him that they were looking for boys aged 12-16 to work as newspaper boys. “Want ter work for us? I bet yer could use some nicker.”

“’ow much yer pay, eh?” Jongdae was suspicious – no one ever wanted to employ Hollow boys, in case they stole something. But then again, Hollow boys were no avid readers, so they wouldn’t steal newspapers.

“Enoof.” Laughed one of the men, and somehow it put Jongdae at ease. “Anyway, if yer want, come tomorrow ter Auld Barn in de mornin’.”

The man without a hat put his forefinger to his head, as if he was saluting even though he wasn’t wearing cabbie cap, which made Jongdae think that he used to wear it. That he was local fellow, that somehow made his way to the other _half_.

As men walked away Jongdae slowly approached a poster, and reread it. It clearly stated that _The Mail_ was looking for newspaper delivery boys, and they paid a quarter a day.

Quarter a day! He could buy not only loaf of bread with that, but also a roll or two with it. Twins loved white rolls – but they could seldom afford that.

Jongdae looked around the empty street, and tore the poster of the wall, stuffing it into his bag.

*

The next morning Jongdae woke up early. He wasn’t excited or anything like that, it’s just Hyemi rolled around in her sleep and elbowed him in the gut. He woke up with a start, and laid for a while, calming his heart. Hyemi and Hyejin were still fast asleep, quiet wheezing sounds that Hyejin made mixed with birds’ song outside. Jongdae listened to his sister’s breath, realizing that she got runny nose again.

They were five, conceived and born few months before their father was killed. Although they looked identical, they couldn’t have been more different, Hyemi loud and lively child, with Hyejin quiet and illness-prone. Grandmother always muttered under her nose, that Hyemi stole all Hyejin powers back in the womb.

Finally he decided it’s time to wake up, and he slowly rose, detangling himself from girls’ limbs. Instinctively they spread out even more on the bed, taking all the space that was left when he stood up.

He washed his face in the basin in the kitchen, and helped himself to the slice of the bread with butter sprinkled with salt, stuffed one orange in his pocket, put his cabbie cap on, and was out of the building, before sun rose.

Before making way to Old Barn, he visited his lads – they stole together, they should work together.

The four of them reached Old Barn, when the first rays of sun appeared over the horizon. The men from yesterday were already there, unpacking delivery track, filled with newspapers.

“Oi, lads! Ready ter work, eh?” Asked the man that wore hat yesterday. Today he didn’t have one.

“T’be sure.” Answered Minseok. He was the oldest from the bunch, and he usually did the talking, even though Baekhyun was pretty talkative himself.

“Ok, listen ‘ere lads. We give yer a pack of newspapers an’ de addresses – al’ yer ‘av ter do is deliver dem an’ den come back for yer nicker, clear?”

“Where will we be deliverin’?” Asked Baekhyun, looking curiously at the delivery truck with _The Mail_ painted on it.

“What do yer mean where?” Laughed the man, and they all look at him irked. “Uptown.”

The other man got a map, and spread it on the pavement. Boys gathered around it, as he started pointing out the streets they had to cover. After that they all got two packs of newspapers each, and they were sent off with a warning to finish before eight, when Uptowners usually expected their newspapers to read with breakfast.

It was another sign of the difference between lads and wealthy bunch – no one from Hollows could afford to wake up this late.

Armed with newspapers boys made their way to tram’s stop. They couldn’t afford the ticket, but then again they had no intention to buy one. As the tram were rolling past them, they waited till the commuters started jumping off it (trams never stopped in the Hollows – they were just going slow enough for people not to kill themselves while jumping off, and while jumping on), and while shielded from the motorist, they grabbed onto the metal rods on the back of the vehicle, and jumped onto it, standing on the back bumper.

That’s how Hollow boys rode the tram – on the back, and if they were riding alone, they would even sit on the bumper. In a greater number there was not enough space to be comfortable.

Soon enough buildings started to change into trees and parks, and tram started going up the hill. When it cleared the hill, boys could see a different city. New, white, clean buildings, with no debris on the streets, with no barefoot children, and no cabbie cap in sight.

Tram stopped on the first stop of the Uptown, and Minseok jumped off the tram, saluted boys with his forefinger to the cap, and went to deliver his batch of papers. Tram was nearly empty by now, and the streets were mostly deserted – Uptown was still asleep, so no one was there to alert the motorist of tram hoppers.

Next to jump off was Baekhyun, who also saluted before running off. With only Jongdae and Junmyeon on the bumper they could sit down.

“Is it gonna be gran’ day?” Asked Junmyeon and Jongdae laughed, looking at the pebbles between tracks.

“Don’t knuck anythin’, lad. We ‘ere ter deliver not knuck.” Jongdae patted him on the shoulder, saluted, and jumped off the tram.

He looked for the street name, and then, remembering the map, he made his way to his sector. The neighborhood was so clean he could eat of the pavement. After he cleared the tenement houses that run along the main street, he found himself surrounded by enormous mostly-white detached houses, all with striking green gardens and elegant fences.

Those were his addressees.

He worked quickly, years of pulling the old trick of double-steal he performed yesterday pulling off. He run down the street tossing rolled paper on the porches of the houses. He was usually quite spot-on with his throw, but he missed few, but every time he went back to place newspaper right.

He quickly fell into comfortable rhythm, and it lulled his senses – he didn’t realize that on one porch there were people.

He halted abruptly, but paper already left his hand. Thankfully it landed on the porch, and did not hit any of the people on it.

Young girl, clearly his age, bent over to retrieve the paper.

“Stop it.” Came harsh order, and the girl jerked upright, the aureole of her hair, clearly manually put in those exquisite curls, swirled around her face. She was wearing light blue lacy dress with white pantyhose – a duo that would never be worn by any of the Hollow girls. Pantyhose was expensive and easy to tear, and light dresses were really easy to stain. “Don’t touch it.”

Supposedly the mother of the girl, the elegant matron was looking at Jongdae, while speaking, and it was really easy to understand, that she shouldn’t touch it, because he _did_.

“Let the servants bring it inside.”

Girl blinked, and didn’t say anything, taking offered hand. Jongdae watched enthralled as they walked down the steps, girl’s hair moving around her face, looking so soft. The woman glanced at him quite disgusted, and then as if realizing that he doesn’t even look at her, she decided to ignore him.

“Come quickly, love, we shouldn’t make Madam Lee waiting. She so kindly agreed to give you additional classes.”Girl looked at Jongdae with the same interest in her big shining eyes, he observed her with, as her mother babbled on. The language she was using was so different from his.”Although the 7:30 classes… Of course I understand that she has her schedule full, and we should be thankful for you even getting a chance, but 7:30 is such an ungodly hour…”

They passed him, mother changing the hands she was holding with the girl, to bring her on her other side, so she wouldn’t pass Jongdae.

But she still curiously looked over her shoulder as they walked down the street.

Jongdae went back to delivering only after they disappeared.

*

In contrary to his fears – they were all paid. And they were all invited to come back in next week. And suddenly apart from stealing they all had a weekly income of twenty-five nickers. It wasn’t much, but it was definitely adding to their budget. After 7 weeks Jongdae saved enough to buy one pair of shoes for the girls, but he hid it under their mother’s bed, until he was able to afford the second one.

With paper delivery job came others – usually odd jobs, like gardening, fruit picking, or roof cleaning, or storage/basement clearing. Those were good jobs. Not only they were paid, but usually boys would get something extra, like apples or berries, or old furniture that the Uptowners didn’t need.

But back in Hollows they were still standing on the corners or in the gates, looking for a way to make quick money.

*

“Yer sister is quite bonny, eh.” Said Baekhyun to Minseok one day, as they were standing in the gate, as pack of dirty-looking children ran past their hideout. Years went by, but in the hollows nothing had changed. There was still debris on the pavement, tram still wasn’t stopping in the neighborhood, area was still filled with crafty fellows, ready to strike any moment.

Minseok didn’t look at him, focusing on his sister walking down the street with two other girls holding hands. His sister was quite pretty, fresh face and braids and innocent eyes, and she looked at the boys, shyly smiling at them.

She was smiling at Jongdae, but little did she know, she stood little chance against the girl in Jongdae’s heart.

“Touch ‘er an’ yer ‘ill be eatin’ yer bollocks for supper.”Slurred Minseok, and it startled boys into silence. Minseok was rarely this aggressive. But Jongdae could understand him. Hyemi and Hyejin were turning eight, and they were both cute, and he couldn’t stand a thought that one day they were going to find some lads for themselves.

But it was no secret that Baekhyun was crushing on the girl. Minseok probably wanted the best in the world for her, but what would be better than own lad? The worst would be a stuck-up schnook.

Big shiny eyes appeared in Jongdae’s mind, and he shifted on his heels. The tram was coming, and he had no plans for today, so…

“Oi’m off, lads.” He said offhandedly, and before they could react he was already running after the tram, and jumping on the bumper.

“Ye gonna see ‘er again?” Shouted Baekhyun after him, coming out of the gate. Jongdae just waved at him, sitting down on the bumper, and Baekhyun shook his head, going back to stand with the rest. “Yer man is head over ‘ills for ‘er.”

Boys looked as tram disappeared behind the corner, taking Jongdae uptown.

***

“That hooligan is here again.” Chanyeol voice is always drilling into your brain, especially when you focus on embroidering. But that particular phrase makes you jump in your armchair, but you calm yourself immediately, not wanting your mother to notice your excitement. “I knew they meant trouble from the moment they were hired as a delivery boys.”

Chanyeol let the curtain fall down, and he joined you and your mother at the coffee table. Your mother nodded along, looking at her nearly embroidered flower.

“I always wondered why couldn’t they hire boys from Little City? They are _at least_ civilized.” She sighs, and Chanyeol is the one to nod now. You don’t say anything, knowing it’s not your place to speak, while adults talk. “I remember that little one with his awful pronounced jaw, who threw newspaper at us few years back.”

“I think it’s the same one, mommy.” You are dying to go and see for yourself, but it’s not proper. Nothing you want to in your life is _proper._

“Atrocious. They shouldn’t let them roam around here freely. No way of knowing what they are up to.” They fall silent, and you decide it’s safe enough to look up. Chanyeol is sprawled on the couch in front of you, and by sprawled you mean he is sitting with his back at the backrest, but his arm is stretched over it. As relaxed as one can be in this house. You and your mother are in sitting in the armchairs, and it’s been some time since you sat down. Your hawk is nearly finished.

Your mother didn’t like the design, hawk being too manly and too rough animal, but she appreciated the work you had to put in it, so she didn’t complain _that_ much.

“Oh, mommy, my friends are coming later for tea.” Says Chanyeol, suddenly, and you wonder if it’s safe enough for you to stand up, and pass the window to get a chance to see the _hooligan_ from Hollows.

“Are they, now?” Asks your mother quite surprised.

“Yes, mommy, you agreed few days ago.” Supplies Chanyeol helpfully and you know he is lying through his teeth, because he shots you a quick glance. You say nothing, storing the knowledge for later, in case you need something from Chanyeol.

Your household is strict. Very strict. And it applies to both you and your older brother, with the difference of Chanyeol having way more freedom to walk out of the house. But it’s still very constraining, and as a siblings you have a pact – you never tattle on him, and he never tattles on you.

But since there is never a reason to tattle on you, you exchange that favor for things you can’t get – because you don’t get to go out freely.

It’s obvious, he is a man, after all.

“Is that so?” She says, and you expect that she’ll deny. Because it’s clear as a day that that conversation did not take place. But she puts her embroidery away. “I guess I should make sure kitchen is ready for…?”

“Sehun, Jongin, Yixing and Kyungsoo.” Supplies Chanyeol, and you groan internally. That _group_.

“Oh, the boys! Is Yixing feeling better? Should I inform Mrs. Yong to prepare something invigorating for him?” Chanyeol doesn’t answer, because you both know that your mother doesn’t need that. She stands up, and leaves the room. As soon as she is gone you put down the embroidery.

“That’s quite manly bird. Is it an eagle?” Asks Chanyeol eyeing it from upside down.

“It’s a hawk.” You answer, quite offended, and you fold the handkerchief to hide it from Chanyeol’s eyes. He laughs.

“So, do you have any plans to give it to someone?” He asks after a moment, and you look up at him.

“What do you mean?” You ask, feeling how it sparks some weird feeling in your gut.

“The handkerchief.” He clarifies, which doesn’t clarify anything really. You understood what he was referring to. You look at the scrape of the fabrics.

“Why would anyone want that?” You ask, and Chanyeol laughs again. You can feel the warmth spreading on your cheeks and you stand up abruptly.

“No, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh.” He says quickly, but you can still hear the laughter in his voice. You realize that now, that you are standing you can walk to the window, without arising any suspicions.

Which is really handy. You straighten your skirt, and you slowly go to the bookcase as if you wanted to choose a book.

“Hey… Don’t be offended.”

“I’m not.” You say, not turning around to your brother, just slowly making your way to the window, hand brushing the books.

“I just meant it as a way for you to show your favor.” Says Chanyeol, and you nearly don’t hear him, your heart is beating madly because you can see the porch of the house on the other side of the street. Few more steps and you’ll have the perfect angle to see the pavement in front of your house.

“Favor?” You ask, mindlessly, taking another step.

“Yes, favor. You do understand that you are in the age one could call eligible.” He says, and you take one more step, and you see him.

The boy who threw the paper under your feet, with his dark locks, and clever eyes, and curved lips and sharp jawline, and checkered flatcap, and suspenders, and red bandanna.

“As a matter of fact I know that there are men among my friends that would be more than happy to receive such a token of favor from you.” Chanyeol continues. The boy outside is resting against the tree, tossing an apple he has in his hand up and catching it. He seems bored, but he eyes the house.

You feel something weird in your chest as you look at him.

You turn around of your heel and sit down to finish the handkerchief.

“Is there a person you’d like to gift it too?” Asks Chanyeol, quite excited.

You don’t look up.

“Maybe.”

*

You finish the embroidery few minutes before butler announces that you brother’s friends have arrived. He needn’t have really, because you can hear them the moment they enter. They are quite a loud bunch, but the Chanyeol is definitely the loudest.

You take the ribbon from sewing supplies’ basket, and you tie it nicely around folded handkerchief. It’s going to be a present in the end.

You grab it loosely in your hand, and you go out of the room. It’s on the second floor, near the open staircase, and you come to the balustrade to peer down at the boys. They are all wearing formal clothes, clean and ironed.

Chanyeol notices you.

“My lovely sister!” He exclaims, and you don’t scrunch your face – even if you want to. It’s not a proper thing to do. The rest turns around and there are greets scattered around, but you don’t answer them.

That is the only proper rude thing you can do.

“Will you be joining us tonight?” Asks Jongin with a curious smile, and you can’t ignore how dashingly handsome he is. He is handsome in such a perfect and clean way that you always feel embarrassed around him.

Just like now, when your cheeks start to burn.

Chanyeol laughs.

“I think she will, since she has a surprise for one of us.” He says, voice theatrical whisper. You’d love to step on his foot, but it’s too late. His friends are all excited.

“We will be waiting.” Says Jongin softly, and sends you a smile, and Sehun is patting his back with excessive force and you turn around not to look at them anymore. Their laughter haunts you, as you walk to your bedroom.

“By the way, Chanyeol, what is that Hollow’s hooligan doing in front of your house? He was eyeing us so intently, I thought he was going to steal our souls.” Jongin voice stops you in your tracks.

“Not that you have anything to be stolen.” Says Kyungsoo quite coldly, and they laugh. You are still standing in the shadows, waiting for a follow up. Is _the boy_ still out there? Is it you he is waiting for? Or maybe he really wants to steal something from your house.

But he wouldn’t show his face so openly if he planned to do that, right?

Right?

“He is our paper delivery boy, but truth be told…” Chanyeol’s voice drops, and when usually you can hear him perfectly clear even if you don’t want to, now you don’t hear the word.

But you hear the disgusted and angry reactions from Chanyeol friends.

“We should go and show him, that it’s not a place for one of his lot.” Says Sehun, there are agreeing murmurs, and you can feel anxiety raising.

“But maybe after the tea, gentlemen.” Says Yixing, and it nearly makes you laugh, because they all agree. Proper boys won’t skip their tea, will they?

But somehow, it seems like Yixing just tried to cool them down.

Butler leads them to smaller dining room, and soon you don’t hear them anymore. Servant girl curtsies you and walks past you, but you don’t react, clenching the handkerchief in your hand. House is quiet, but you need something more than quiet house.

“Boonyi.” You call, turning around, and the servant girl stops, to turn around as well.

“Yes, miss?”

“Where is my mother?” You ask urgently.

“She is on her way to take a bath, miss.” She answers.

“In parent’s bathroom?” Girl nods, and you wave her away. It’s good. That bathroom has windows to the east, and so are the window in the smaller dining room, where your brother currently is.

Which means that if you go out the servant’s doors, in the back, you’ll be able go along the west wing, and you wouldn’t be seen. There is still possibility that your father would come from work, but that shouldn’t happen. He said something about joint exercises of something, this morning, which usually meant he wasn’t back for days.

You calm yourself and go down to the ground floor, and then you go into servants’ corridor. You tiptoe by kitchen, and servants’ quarters, and you hurriedly (and anxiously) open the servants door.

You are not sure what you are doing, really, but you walk around the house, until you see the tree and the boy still leaning against it.

You are in the middle of the lawn, when he sees you, and you can see how surprised he is. You are feeling brave.

“Are you a thief?” You ask, stopping in front of him, but on the other side of the fence. You feel safe here.

“Waat?” He asks, elongating the sounds, and you are not sure what you heard. He seems confused, but he straightens himself ungluing his back from the tree. He takes a step forward, which makes you take a step back. Even safely behind the face.

He smiles, as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Are you a robber?” You ask, voice wavering. “Are you here to rob us?”

He points at himself, and you nod, not looking away for a second.

“Oi’m not ‘ere ter knuck anythin’.” He might as well be speaking another language, so thick is his accent.

“What?” You ask lost, feeling how your resolution is crippling. Why did you even went out?

He blinks, and you are suddenly mesmerized by his eyelashes, and he wets his lips.

“Oi’m not a robber.” He says, slowly, and somehow you realize that he is trying to imitate your speech.

“Oh, ok.” You say, feeling how the tension leaves you. You remember about handkerchief. You stick your hand out, through the fence. “For you.”

“’tis for me?” He ensures, looking both surprised and curious. “Tanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” You say instinctively as he takes it, and he furrows his eyebrows.

“Ter who Oi shouldn’t menshun it?” He asks, and you have no idea what he is talking about, and he clearly sees that.

“Ter who Oi shouldn’t mention it?” He tries again, slower, handkerchief still not released from its ribbon bond.

You blink, once and twice, before it hits you.

“Oh! To whom you shouldn’t mention it?” You ask, and he nods. Even though you now understand what he said, you have no idea what it is about. It finally hits you. “Oh, it’s not that way, it’s just a thing you say, when somebody thanks you…”

Boy looks at you in silence, and you can feel yourself growing embarrassed.

“Dat is weird.” He says after a moment.

It’s too much for you, so you just turn around, and walk quickly away.

“Oi! Wait! At least tell me yer name, lassy!” You allow yourself a quick glance back, and he is standing at the fence, hand on the metal, waving to you with his hand still holding the handkerchief. You clear the corner, and he doesn’t call after you anymore. Thankfully.

You make a quick way to the building, where you storm down servants’ corridor.

Chanyeol catches you on the stairs.

“I was wondering where you were hiding.” He laughs.

“I… I don’t feel too well.” You say, face hot, fingers clenching on the handrail. Chanyeol takes a closer look.

“Oh, you don’t look well.” He agrees and ushers you upstairs. “Go to your room and rest, there will still be chances to give it.”

“Give what?” You ask, confounded.

“You know, the handkerchief.” Chanyeol winks at you, and you bite your lip.

“Oh, yes, sure. Lots of chances.”

***

The boy didn’t expect that. To say the truth that was the last thing he expected. For the girl to walk out of this enormous mansion, clearly hiding (probably from her mother) to speak to him. She stared at him with those shiny eyes, which he remembered from few year ago, but under her naïve innocence, he saw wit and strength he didn’t expected, but he welcomed it.

And he got a gift. He didn’t got a name, but he got a gift, which he didn’t open the whole ride home. He stared at the white material and blue ribbon and it was one of the softest things he held in his hands. He feared dirtying it, so he hid it in his front pocket, excitement buzzing in his veins.

Only after arriving home, where girls were playing in their shared room, and grandma snoozing in her armchair, Jongdae washed his hands in the basin, and laid the present on the tattered table.

He slowly dismantled the ribbon, smoothing it out, and folding down – to keep. He unfolded the piece of fabrics, and he realized that he got an embroidered handkerchief. The most luxurious piece of fabrics he had in his life.

He slowly traced the image of the bird. The girl must have made it herself, and the bare thought made him feel warmth. The image of her hurrying away, with her skirt brushing her legs was also not an un-welcomed sight.

“Ye knuck dat?” He heard and jerked – his grandma entered the kitchen. She poured herself a cup of water and sat down in front of him. He shook his head offended (which was stupid, since every luxurious thing he brought home was _stolen_ ).

“Oi didn’t.” He said defensively, and his grandma hummed, and turned the handkerchief on the table to look at it, and then hummed even louder.

“Ye did knuck somethin’ after al’.” She said, turning it back. “’owever yer only ‘alfway through.”

“What yer mean?” He asked. He always hated when his granny spoke like that – in riddles.

“Yer knuck de ‘eart of de lassy dat gave yer dat, but knuckin’ ‘er is not gonna be dat easy.”She said, and Jongdae barely contained his smile. If granny was right – that meant the girl _fancies_ him.

“Yer tink she likes me?” He asked, feeling happiness filling his gut. Grandma sputtered at him.

“Naw lassy gives dat ter lad she doesn’t loike.” Jongdae caressed the pattern on the handkerchief, now smiling broadly. Granny hit him in the arm, and he didn’t even react. “If dat lassy is from Uptown, ’er auld pair ‘ill be against you.”

Even that warning couldn’t stop Jongdae from smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

“Lads.” Called Baekhyun as they walked down the street. They didn’t have anything to do so they strolled down the streets of Hollow – they were slowly moving away from simplest pick-pocketing. They grew up, younger boys took their place near markets and street vendors. Those young crafty fellows learned through trial and error, just like boys once used to.

Now Jongdae’s bunch was working – both legally and illegally, and if they were stealing – they did it with more benefits in mind. Shops, basements, apartments. Of course not in the Hollow, that was against their rules – schnook was a target, not a local lad. So they started taking the tram number two the other way as well. They took more jobs as blue collar workers in the Little City, half to earn money, half to do reconnaissance work.

But they couldn’t refrain from quick, small jobs like illegal fruit picking.

Just like now: Baekhyun was pointing to small apple tree, it’s branches hanging low, heavy with all the fruits. Boys didn’t need any other invitation. Minseok took few steps forward, while Junmyeon turned around and took few steps back. While boys were on the lookout, Baekhyun helped Jongdae jump over the face. Not like Jongdae needed that help, but it was a notch faster. Jongdae landed softly on the grass, squatting down – both to cushion his jump, and to give him a moment to look around. No one was in sight, so he straightened quickly and jogged over to the tree, hearing Baekhyun go on the other side behind him. Jongdae took of his duffel bag (the same one in which he brought oranges home those few years ago) and started stuffing it with apples. Baekhyun did the same on the other side of the tree.

The moment Jongdae’s bag was filled with fruits, he went to help Baekhyun. They were in no hurry, since they didn’t feel threatened. They made their way back to the fence leisurely, once again Baekhyun helping Jongdae over the fence. Jongdae dragged him in turn, and as Baekhyun’s feet touched the ground, Junmyeon joined them, and they continued walking down the street.

*

“Look at me, ma! Oi’m bonny, eh?” That was the first thing Jongdae heard when he entered the flat. He was bringing back apples and two bottles of milk, which he stole – more because he could than because he had to. Granny was sitting at the table in the kitchen, glasses which Jongdae got for her few year ago teetering  on the very tip of her nose as she tried to mend Hyejin’s socks.

Or maybe Hyemi’s? Jongdae couldn’t keep up anymore.

“’owaya, granny?” Jongdae greeted her, leaving the bag on the table and kissing the top of grandma’s head. “Ma is in?” He asked, and not waiting for the answer, and he walked over to see his mother sitting on the old sunken couch. It was an unusual sight, Jongdae’s mother was always out and working, till her fingers were sore and bleeding.

That’s why girls were so excited.

Jongdae leaned against the doorframe (which didn’t have doors as long as Jongdae could remember). Girls were dancing in front of mom, showing off and trying to display all the things that changed during the time they couldn’t spend time with mother.

It was a heartwarming scene, and it brought smile to Jongdae’s face. His mother spotted him, and smiled at him, and he unglued his back from the wall, and walked over to kiss his mother on the cheek.

Only then did he realize that Hyemi was wearing blue ribbon on her head, and that was why she was trying to show it off to mother. Anger filled his gut immediately, because that was _his_ ribbon.

“’emi! Where ye fend it!” He asked, turning to his younger singer. Hyejin immediately ran over to sit next to their mother. She was this shy, easily scared child. But Hyemi… Was definitely not.

She pursed her lips together, puffing her cheeks, already ready to pout.

“Waaat?” She asked, shaking her head, trying to look cute. Which usually worked on Jongdae. Usually.

“Where ye fend de ribbon?!” She blinked and she rose her hand to her head, where blue ribbon was tied in a small bow.

“In yer drawer.” She answered quietly.

“In me drawer!” Repeated Jongdae, stressing _me_. He outstretched his hand in clear demand. “Give it ter me!”

“Why! Yer don’t need it!” She countered, protectively taking step back.

“’tis me ting!”He stressed, not bucking, with his hand outstretched. He could see how Hyemi’s face was getting red, but he wouldn’t step down – not for that thing.

“Ma!” Blurted out Hyemi, running to mother, tears in the corners of her eyes.

“’tis only a ribbon, Jon’de.” Mother said in the soothing voice, bringing Hyemi closer. Girl looked at him, under mother’s arm – and in few hours it would make him laugh – the obvious manipulation on girl’s part, but now it annoyed him.

“Not for the fella!” Granny walked into the room, and she walked over to Hyemi, and outstretched her hand. Girl pouted, but she took it off, and handed to grandma without any word. She in turn passed it to Jongdae, who straightened it out, and folded neatly, and walked over to his drawer, feeling stares on his back. But he didn’t flinch and opened the drawer, and put the ribbon back on the handkerchief.

 His heart swelled, but there was something bitter in the back of his throat. The day she gave him the handkerchief was the last time he saw her. Days turned into weeks, and those in months, and no matter how often he went back, she didn’t go out.

He could hear his mother murmur to his grandmother, asking what was the deal with the ribbon.

“Ask de fella.” Answered granny, and he never loved her more than in that moment.

*

“Jon’de.” He was about to call it a day, when his mother called him to the kitchen. He no longer slept with the girls in the same room. He left the small room for the girls, and he slept on the couch, while his mother and grandmother occupied the other small room.

He obediently went to the kitchen. His mother looked old and weary, and he wanted to ease her sufferings. She was rubbing her hands together, knuckles red and swollen.

“’oweya?” She asked, when he sat down. He shrugged and she smiled at him, raising her hand to pat his cheek. “Yer are a good fella. A good fella.”

Mother was rarely this sappy. It certainly made Jongdae nervous.

“Ma, everythin’ al’right?” He asked, and she bit her lip.

“Oi was fired, Jon’de.”

*

It shouldn’t be _that_ surprising. And it really wasn’t. It didn’t change much, either. Either way for the last 7 years Jongdae was family’s main breadwinner. Mother’s salary was a nice addition, but they could do without it.

What changed was Jongdae’s take on his family’s situation. He made do with stealing and odd jobs, but granny was old, and ma wasn’t getting younger either. He didn’t want girls to go through what he had in order to survive.

And in his current situation he could only dream about supporting another person and hopefully the family of his own.

The solution was simple in its construction, but harder to pull-off. He needed a stable job. A career other than theft.

“Lads.” Spoke up Jongdae, while they rested on the wooden deck. They were sitting in the park, with legs in the pond. Baekhyun brought fishing rod with him, but they all knew it was more a prop than anything more. “If yer ‘ad to fend a job, what would it be?”

“Oi don’t nu.” Shrugged Minseok, but before Jongdae could snort at them he added. “Maybe musician?”

“Musician?” Repeated Baekhyun.

“Aye. Oi sometimes play me father accordion.” Baekhyun raised his eyebrows at him half mocking, half disbelieving. Minseok shrugged again, face redder than a moment ago.

“Soldier.” Mused Junmyeon, and Jongdae turned his head to the side.

“Wat?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yer asked what job would Oi fend.” Answered Junmyeon defensively. “And Oi says soldier.”

*

As it turned out, Junmyeon’s answer was a very thoughtful one. Soldier was a career anyone could go for, even without higher education or particular skills. It paid well and it paid on time, and it was a stable job.

It was a good job.

It didn’t take Jongdae long before he found himself in front of the building where drafting board had its office. For the first time in years he didn’t notify his friends about this particular plan of his.

Truth be told he was both scared and embarrassed. He was a common petty thief, a Hollow boy, who didn’t attend any real school. Won’t they turn him away? And if they won’t – how he’ll manage?

But if meeting her again meant becoming an honest man first – Jongdae was up for it.

And that was the truth – of course he did think about supporting his family, but it was always backed up by the idea of one day supporting one more person and hopefully some more.

***

“Mommy, could I go with girls to see ballet tonight? They are playing _Giselle_ and you know how I loved Kang Sujin in _Le Corsaire_.”

Your life did change. For better, that was sure. After you were formally introduced to the society during your Debutante Ball (where Jongin took you to) you found yourself in much warmer relations with your mother, and less strict than it used to be. Now you could leave house with a proper supervision (at least one male and female companion). What also changed was a number of suitors coming to see you, which your mother was delighted to see.

Much less delighted were your father and brother.

Speaking of Chanyeol, he went right into your father footsteps, as he started officer’s training school few months ago, and he started coming home proudly wearing nicely fitted military uniform.

Mother gushed over him to all her friends.

“And who would be accompanying you?” Asks your mother, looking up from the letter she is writing. “That lovely boy?”

You don’t bat an eye. You know who is she referring to. Out of the all your suitor she likes one best – Chanyeol’s friend, unnecessarily handsome Kim Jongin.

“Oh, no, Zhang Yixing.” You answer, and soft _oh_ is your answer, which is quite _im_ proper – they way your mother shows her disappointment.

“Very well, you may go, but you’ll have to come back by dinner, your father is coming back home tonight, and he’ll be bringing general Choi and general Kim with him.”

“Yes, mommy.” You answer and leave the room, because you’ve got what you wanted. Your steps are light, now that you have something to wait for. In your room Boonyi has already left you proper clothes – dotted green circle dress with boat neck, petticoat, stockings and accessories like pearls and gloves.

You sit in front of your dressing table (the one your father presented you with after your Debutante Ball), and you check your face. You really don’t need any make-up, but you vainly want to look even better. You grab pencil to line your eye line and to darken your eyebrows a little bit.

Satisfied with the result you dress up, and now you can only wait, with your clutch already in your hand.

Finally you can hear the bell, and you hurry downstairs – so when butler turns around to call for you, you are already passing him to greet Yixing and girls: Yeri, Sodam and Yeram.

*

There is no denying Kang Sujin is best of the best. No one can match her grace and her emotions flowing through her gestures and her dance, and you do feel blessed for being able to witness that.

From the moment the spectacle ends, through your wait at the tram stop, and even in the tram itself you gush about her with your friends. Yixing is politely quiet, but when asked about his opinion he answers that he would not be able to call himself a man if he didn’t enjoy that.

You finally settle down a little when your tram reaches the bridge. Most of the cultural buildings in the city are located in Little City, so every time you go to theatre or opera you get to ride across the river, which is a feast in itself.

Much less so when you arrive in Hollow.

It’s another dimension. Buildings aren’t new and clean, and aren’t that pleasant to look at. It reminds you of times of war, and it’s a horrifying reminder. Also people look different – dirtier, with way worse quality of fabrics, colors more dull and dark, but also they look wearier.

But at the same time, you can see what you don’t have – freedom. You can see barefoot children running noisily on the street, playing in something you can’t grasp. You see teenagers under walls with their colorful bandannas and flatcaps and suspenders looking at the tram. They don’t look hurried or preoccupied with anything.

You have to admit that they look kind of cute, in this disheveled kind of way.

The journey through Hollow is lazy, but without any stops. Tram is going a little slower than usually, but it doesn’t stop, and you lazily look out the window, eyes jumping from one group of Hollow hooligans to another.

You won’t admit it, but you are looking for somebody.

You saw him few more times under your fence, but you couldn’t go out to him. And lately he stopped coming – which hurt you quite a lot.

_You gave him a handkerchief!_

You are subconsciously keeping other suitors at the distance, because of the boy you spoke once with. It is weird, and you understand it, but you cannot deny that it’s exactly what you are doing.

On the street you catch different outfit that you are accustomed to. You see a boy who instead of bandanna, flatcap and suspenders is wearing military uniform. It’s not the one your brother wears. Chanyeol wears clean, elegant uniform of an officer. This boy is wearing the simplest, but comfortable uniform of a private.

You smile. You’ve heard so many stories of horrors of living in Hollows, of hunger and poverty, and seeing one of these young boys seeking  a better life for himself is heartwarming. You turn around to mention that to Yeri sitting next to you, when the boy on the street laughs, and turns his head to look at the tram, and you recognize that face.

Hair is different. Shorter. But it’s your paper boy, and you act without a single thought – just like you did those few months ago. You grab your clutch, and you stand up, pushing past girls and Yixing, who ask you alarmed what you are doing. You don’t answer, and you reach the open doors of the tram, and you grab the metal rod – which is there for that exact reason.

You can hear the murmur of the tram’s passengers, as they realize that uptown girl is about to get off in the Hollow. Adrenaline surges through your veins – mostly because you realize that the tram is not going to halt, as it usually does, and it’s slowly rolling away from the boy, and if you don’t act now, you will lose your chance.

So you jump.

The moment in the air is terrifying, and you lose your steps, and you have to trot forward until your minute heels grab the firm footing. You calm yourself down and straighten, fixing your gloves. You look around noticing that you are in the centre of attention of nearby Hollow boys.

It raises your adrenaline levels once more, and you turn back to where you last saw your paper boy.

“Oy! Lassy, lookin’ for some ‘andsum lad?” Calls one of them, and you localize him in the group. He winks at you, and your eyes flutter. That is… _unusual._

“No, thank you.” You answer properly and they burst in laughter, which you leave without comment, deciding that you’d better find the boy quickly.

You turn around and walk back on tram’s tracks, realizing after few steps that Hollow boys are following you. Suddenly you regret your harsh decision, and you bring your clutch closer to you, and you speed up a little, your minute heels clicking on uneven pavement.

You see the military uniform, and your heart speeds up as well. The boy has his back to you, walking away with three other boys, and you feel how excitement comes back to you.

“Excuse me!” You call out, but they don’t react (but the group following you certainly does), so you try again, louder, while raising your hand. “Excuse me!”

One of the tree boys hears you, and curiously looks around. Seeing you he pats the boy next to him and points at you, which is _rude_. The other boy looks at you as well, eyebrows raised high, and he in turn pats military boy, as they finally stop.

The paper boy looks at his friend, and then around, and he recognizes you as soon as he sees you – which shows in his eyes. He immediately turns around and walks over to you, looking not at you, but at the boys following you.

“Lookin’ for trouble, lads?” He asks, and it sounds like a warning. You glance over your shoulder to see that they have backed off, which makes you see the military boy in quite different light. “Why are ye at ‘ere, lass?”

His hair might be shorter, but his eyes are shining, and his smile is rakish, and his speech as foreign as ever. But you decide that you should explain how comes you found yourself in the Hollow.

“I went to see ballet in Little City, and as I was traveling back, I saw you on the street, and I figured that it’s only right to greet you.” You say, smiling to the three boys that was accompanying the military boy, since you see them looking at you curiously. “Good afternoon.”

“’noon.” Answers one of them awkwardly, but they come closer.”Jon’de, ‘tis de uptown lass?”

“Jon’de?” You repeat quietly, pondering on how weird the name is, until you realize that’s probably Hollow’s pronunciation of Jongdae.”Jongdae. It’s a nice name.”

You are met with blank stares. Maybe they didn’t understand you?

“Aye,” says Jongdae, speaking to his friends. “’tis de uptown lass…”

He makes a pause and looks at you expectantly. Your etiquette is good enough to realize that it’s a moment, when you should supply your name. So you do, and you curtsy to the boys, realizing that there is no point in outstretching your hand to greet them.

They look at you blankly again, and you start to wonder, _how_ they greet ladies in Hollow, when you hear your name.

It’s distressed Yixing, running down the street. You wave at him, and his relief is palpable, as he pushes past the boys who were standing at the distance since Jongdae warned them off. Yixing stops in front of you, coattails flapping at his legs as he does so. He looks really out of place with his ballet-worthy suit, and his neatly brushed hair, which he brushs back in place as soon as he stops.

“You shouldn’t have left the tram like that.” He scolds you softly, and you smile apologetically, acknowledging your fault. Yixing exhales, and finally looks around.

He notices Jongdae and boys staring at him.

“Oh, it’s your paper boy!” He exclaims suddenly, outstretching his arm to Jongdae, who reluctantly shakes it. “Nice to meet you, I’m Zhang Yixing.”

“Same.” Answers military boy.” Kim Jon’de.”

“Thank you for taking care of our miss, girls were worried sick.” Continues Yixing, completely disregarding weird looks he is getting. “Oh, and I see, you found a better job? Good for you, my friend.”

“Oh, yes!” You join in, when boy next to Jongdae snickers. “Congratulations on your signing up!”

Although when Yixing speaks to him, Jongdae seems gloomy, the moment he turns to you, you can see his eyes shining, and his lips pulling into a shy smile.

“Tanks.” He says, and in this moment some Hollow boy blindsides Yixing, and Jongdae immediately grabs fellow’s wrist. You jump back surprised, only to see Jongdae take out of boy’s fingers Yixing’s pocket watch. “Lad, yer shouldn’t knuck from me _friend_.”

When saying _friend_ Jongdae’s eyes flash to you and to Yixing. The would-be thief yanks his hand back, looking sullen. He spits under Jongdae’s feet, which you find extremely disgusting.

“Oi sees no friends, only schnooks.” Counters boy, and one of Jongdae’s friends hits him in the back of his head, with an open hand. You freeze.

“Watch it, lad.” Warns him Jongdae’s friend, and you realize that both you and Yixing are watching the situation in disbelief. Jongdae just caught a boy trying to steal from Yixing, and yet they all behave as if they were just scolding younger brother, instead of calling for police.

“We– we should go.” Yixing’s voice is weak. Jongdae nods and hands him his watch.

“Aye. ‘tis a fierce place for someone loike yer lots.” He says and points to railroads with his chin.

“Thank you,” says Yixing, offering you his arm, and you take it, although you are still looking at Jongdae.

“Naw menshun it.” Jongdae shrugs, and you smile, remembering how you said that when you first talked. You pat Yixing’s arm, quite proud that you are able to translate.

“Jongdae says not to mention it.” Yixing laughs, patting your fingers on his arm.

“Ah, look at you, translating Hollow’s speech.”

***

Jongdae walked them back to the corner of the street. He explained that on the corners tram has to slower down even more, so it would be the easiest place for the girl to get on it. He wasn’t sure if they understood him, because whenever he spoke they were both looking at him with blank faces.

He waited with them till tram came, for two different reasons. One was because he was asked to. The fellow, Zhang Yixing said that it would be _improper_ for him to be alone with the girl, which was just nuts. The second reason – he was simply unable to leave her side.

Even with her hand on Yixing’s arm (oh how much Jongdae wished it was his arm), she focused on him, chatting excitedly. He understood the words she was using, but stringed together they had no meaning in his mind, but nonetheless he enjoyed listening to her.

And he quickly found out how annoyed he was when Yixing spoke something from the side, and she would turn around and answer it and _laugh_. He couldn’t stand the moments she wasn’t focusing on him.

But the most furious he was, when Yixing notified her of her smudged makeup, at which she gasped and fished for little hand mirror hidden in her clutch, and _Yixing offered her his handkerchief_. It was done so effortlessly, that Jongdae nearly ripped the thing out of her hand. He wished again for it to be his handkerchief, the one she decorated herself.

When the tram came, once again he was left at the sidelines, when Yixing grabbed her sides giving her a leg-up. She giggled as she found herself in the air, grabbing the awaiting rod, and she quickly made room for Yixing to follow her. Jongdae stood on the pavement, hoping to at least once get his hands on her waist as effortlessly as Yixing did.

It just looked manly. And caring. It was something he never saw here. Of course, they were really protective of Hollow girls, of their sisters and mothers – but their care wasn’t as _gentleman-like_.

But he met her, and she congratulated him on becoming a soldier – and although it was hard, suddenly his heart was full of ardor. And he got her name, and he got to hear her say his name, sounding so differently in her mouth. In her mouth the name belonged to a gallant hero, not a common chap.

And of course he got to show off, how quick and dexterous he was by catching the thief, and how soft-hearted he was for not harming the boy, which he should have done. Which he would have done if she wasn’t looking at him.

And finally – his friends saw her, and saw that she came to him herself. Finally his one-side interest didn’t look as one-sided anymore.

It was a good day.

Although the thought of Yixing was making him uneasy. Who he was for her?

***

When you come back home you are late. Few minutes tops, but butler leads you straight to the official dining room, where your parents and brother are already seated, with general Choi and Kim, with their families: wifes, and sons – Choi Siwon, Choi Minho, and Kim Jongin.

You couldn’t be less surprised to see Jongin standing up to help you sit down – of course Jongin is your companion for the dinner, your mother wouldn’t want it any other way. On your other side Siwon is seated and although he is also a handsome bachelor, he is a few years too old for you. Minho is in the right age, that’s why he wouldn’t sit next to you. Not with Jongin around.

You sit down elegantly, wondering if Jongdae would help you with your chair if it came to that. Hollow culture is as foreign as its language.

But you certainly enjoyed how he looked in his uniform. And how he made those boys following you go away. There is something undeniably manly about Jongdae, and you really fancy that.

Dinner is going just like those engagement usually go. Your family cook is excellent, so food is exquisite, which guests don’t really stop commenting about. Your father talks with other two generals, while your mother entertains their wives. Jongin is entertaining you, _although_ it should be the other way around. But since he _is_ the suitor, no one makes note of that transgression. He is excited to hear about the play you saw, and he goes into deep discussion about ballet schools in the city, which is enjoyable albeit quite… usual. The same with his invitation to see horse races.

“You should take her to see the base and not horses!” Calls general Choi, when he hears Jongin’s invitation. It’s joke that is meant as a jab – directed at general Kim, who furrows his eyebrows. Jongin is his only son, among 3 daughters, an only son who refuses to sign up for the army. On the other hand general Choi has two sons, both in military, which is the only career admired in your circles.

But you are the root of his bitterness. It’s not modest to phrase it like that, but it’s truth no one can deny. It’s not even about your looks, but being pretty is not a disadvantage either. You are the only daughter to four star general – the highest military rank in times of peace, and during war your father was the last general field marshal, the highest rank in the military in times of war.

It was under your father’s orders that the enemy was brought down, and peace was brought back to your nation. Which means you are the greatest prize young man could wish for.

And in mind of many, that honor should be reserved only for an heir of noble military tradition (so only for a fellow who served in military like did both of general Choi’ sons).

But your mother likes Jongin, and that is the end of the story.

Your father laughs, his eyes glancing at you with love from under his bushy eyebrows.

“Oh, my daughter is not particularly fond of men in uniforms. Her poor father included.” The sentence is followed with theatrical sigh and you exhale through your nose, amused.

“It’s not true, papa!”

“Is it, now? Does it mean that you’ll greet me even if I was wearing my uniform?”

You scrunch your nose.

“But, papa, you are wearing your uniform even now!”

“And you did greeted me!” The exclamation is greeted with scattered laughs, and you shake your head at your father. Your relationship is better with father than with mother (while for Chanyeol is the other way around). You are sometimes tired of him treating you like a little girl, but when you told him that, he just exhaled wearily, and asked you to just let him. That it was calming him, and it served him as a reminder why had he done all the things he had to do during the war.

It was your nan, who explained you that even now, eight years after the war, your father was working everyday to keep your country and you safe. That he had to shoulder the burden of the crimes against humanity he committed while at war. You sputtered back then – your father did not commit any crimes! He was a hero!

But now you understood that he committed the greatest sin of them all – he played God. He decided who was to live and who was to die, as easily as one is sacrificing pawns on the chess board. That is the price of officer rank.

“But, to tell you the truth papa, I’m finding myself getting quite fond of military uniforms.” You don’t know why you decide to say that. The words just leave your mouth, without any conscious thought. The effect the words have on the company is significant. General Choi straightens up, while general Kim sends his son a gloomy glance. Your mother is also not pleased (so is Jongin), while both Chanyeol and your father are simply thrilled.

“Is that so?” Asks your father, clasping his hands with a loud clap. “Son, you should take my lovely daughter to visit the base! We should show her the finest of our force!”

You find yourself laughing at Chanyeols enthusiastic agreement.

What they don’t know is that your change of heart can be attributed to one Hollow hooligan.

 ***

“Ma! Ma! Jon’de’s back!” It was the best greeting Jongdae could be wishing for. Hyejin was the first to see him in the front doors and she started calling for mother. Now that he lived in the army barracks he actually got to see his girls (so twins, mother and grandmother) only once a month for few days.

The same with his bunch. Both his family and his friends took it hard in the beginning, but they grew accustomed. In the beginning they couldn’t understand – what was wrong with petty criminal lifestyle? Why work so hard for so little?

But when Jongdae came back home after the first month, exhausted to the bone, but with more bills in his pocket than he ever legally obtained, mocking voices lost their strength. Along with wages, he brought back some of the rations he got in the army. Cigarettes he presented to his friends, and fabrics he gave to his mother so she could sew new clothes for girls.

It was  ajob way harder than stealing or odd-jobs. It wasn’t as exciting and he really missed the thrill of action, but he knew that every month he was bringing back enough money to support his family (and he could even save some – little but still), and if something were to happen to him, the army would take care of his family.

That’s how military took care of their own.

He wasn’t regretting his decision, not one bit.

But after hearing her congratulate him – he started feeling glad he signed up for it.

***

 “Miss, your father is expecting you for lunch at the base today.” You don’t react even though you heard Boonyi’s reminder. You know mother had sent her to do so. It is a blunt sign of her not being happy. She always sends servants as messengers when she is displeased with the recipient of the message.

And the very content of the message is a root of her mood – she doesn’t want you to go to the base. In her own words: nothing good dwelled there, place filled to the brim with uncivilized privates. To which your father softly replied that he also _dwelled_ there.

The stare he got in return was ice cold.

“Call the car.” You think about adding please at the end – but it would only make Boonyi uncomfortable so you don’t. Because you are going to the base, you got a special permit to go by car, which excited you nearly as much as your visit. Your father had one car, your brother had one, and your family owned one more, the limo type car, for when your mother wanted to travel somewhere or when whole family was expected to travel together.

Which meant you’ll be riding the burgundy limo, which you simply loved. You were sometimes embarrassed about how proud you are of that car, but it is the newest, the most luxurious car that you saw in your life, with its suede seats and metallic lights.

Chauffer opens the doors for you, and you feel fancy with your navy pencil dress and white blouse fitted at the waist, and new pill box hat matching the skirt with nylon net that you bought for this exact occasion. Neckerchief complements the outfit.

The base is this enormous plot of land north from the Hollow, but just like it, trapped between Uptown and river. It looks quite menacing from the outside, with its barbed  fence and lookout post, from which you can see barrels.

The car comes to the stop in front of barrier, and chauffer presents his papers, to which reading them soldier, jumps to salute.

You ignored him, because the barrier is opening, and before your eyes you can see the base.

It is vast. You see training grounds, and military vehicles, and barracks, and soldiers. Running in synch or marching, or whatever else they sre doing. It seems like they all had their purpose, and no one is walking alone.

At the end of the driveway Chanyeol awaits you, and he is the one to open the doors for you. He offers you hand, and you take it, because your heels might be a little higher than usual.

“Welcome to Camp Hollow!” He greets you brightly, moving your hand to his arm. “I was ordered by four-star general Park to be miss’ guide today, as he is still engaged elsewhere.”

“And shouldn’t my brother be also engaged somewhere else?” You tease softly, and Chanyeol just smiles, to whisper conspiratorially:

“I do it only to be seen with beautiful girl at my side.”

“I’m your sister.” You say with a disgusted note in your voice, and Chanyeol only laughs.

“It will still bring me jealousy and respect.”

You shake your head, and you don’t press further. Chanyeol leads you slowly through the buildings, explaining what you see, and often joking that he cannot tell you more, because it’s a military secret.

Which, you suspect, is more often true than not.

Most of the passing soldiers stop to salute Chanyeol, who only nods, as he is not wearing his hat, and you are still at his arm. You can see curious and appreciative stares being send your way, and suddenly you understand what your brother meant earlier.

And the vain beast in you is purring at every single stare.

“Would you like to see the training grounds? It seems like father is still at the meeting.” You’ve reached your father’s office, and through glass you can see silhouettes of people inside. You shrug, but you are not delighted with the idea. Sun is high on the sky, and it’s hot, and from what you saw a moment earlier there is not a lot of shadow.

But Chanyeol is not as clueless as one might think, and while walking out of the building he grabs big black umbrella. It’s not perfect, but that’ll do.  At least you’ll be protected from heat and sunburn.

Outside you can see working out soldiers – always in groups. If you see one running, you can be sure at least 20 will follow. Chanyeol shows you section after section, but you realize that you are as interesting to all the men as the training grounds are for you. Probably even more.

On your way back, you see another group of soldiers, doing push-ups. You don’t really focus on them, only looking over when you are less than ten meters away. They have just finished, and they stand up, and you gasp, immediately turning away, blushing.

There may be thirty of them, more-or-less, but what you didn’t see from the distance was the fact that they are all shirtless. You are quite sure you’ve never seen naked chest of a man before. And if you did, it wasn’t as impressive as those you saw here – muscled and shining with sweat and dirt in strong sunlight.

“Boys! Will you dress up – you’ve just shocked the young miss over there!” You hear behind your back, and there is manly laughter behind you.

“But serge! Lass seems ter be enjoyin’ it!” The speech is so familiar that you instinctively look back, which is immediately noted and greeted with jolly laughter of the privates. But sure enough, you see Jongdae with cheeky half-smile, chest still naked, using the top of his uniform to wipe the sweat of his nape.

The blush you produced a second ago is nothing compared with raging red that appears on your face now.

Jongdae winks at you.

“Private!” The sudden yell surprises you – it’s Chanyeol, who pushes the handle of the umbrella into your hand, and walks over to Jongdae, who immediately stands at attention.

“Aye, Lieutenant Pa’k, sir!” You bite your lip, torn. You want to smile, because even if the form is correct, the thick accent makes Jongdae sound like a pirate. And while at attention he is straightened, and looks _good_ , but it’s not proper to _look_. And you feel like Chanyeol is going to scold him pretty badly.

“Chanyeol…” You call quietly, embarrassed. But he ignores you.

“Did you just wink at general’s Park daughter?”

“Oi think ‘tis exactly what Oi jist did, lieutenant Pa’k, sir!” You can feel the laughter bubbling in your gut, and although Jongdae is looking straight ahead as he should, you can feel how amused he is.

“And what gives you a right to do that, private?!” Chanyeol is fuming, and you shuffle on your legs, feeling guilty.

“Lass was starin’ at me muscles, lieutenant Pa’k, sir!” He answers properly, and then his eyes slide to you for a moment. “So Oi thought Oi would give ‘er a bonus.”

You snort.

Audibly.

Chanyeol looks around his shoulder at you, furious, and you school your face, for the first time in your life seeing him this irked.

“You think it’s funny?” Growls Chanyeol, turning back slowly. “Give me fifty!”

There is a small smile dancing on Jongdae’s lips, as he slowly goes down on all four, making a show of it. You _cannot_ look away, feeling how your cheeks burn. Chanyeol is muttering something about _bloody Hollowers not knowing their place_ , as Jongdae does his fifty push-ups, counting them out loud.

By the time he’s finished the veins on his arms and neck pop-out, and although he tried to look unfazed, you can see how red his face is, and how his chest heaves when he stands up again (you are, _but you shouldn’t be_ , swooning).

Chanyeol gives him a second before he comes closer, grabbing his neck, and slurring just in front of his face.

“I dare you, you filthy brethren, to even _look_ at my sister, _just look at her_ and I will make your life a living hell, do you understand me, private?”

“Aye, lieutenant Pa’k, sir!” Calls properly Jongdae, spitting in Chanyeol’s face in the process. You have to stifle a gasp, because that it’s just a deathwish.

Which also sees the drill sergeant, who immediately sends the group to do laps.

Chanyeol is shaking with fury when he walks back to you, and he jumps away, when you try to soothe him with your hand on his back.

Even though Chanyeol has higher rank, you cannot help, but think that Hollow boy outranked him there.

***

For this little spectacle Jongdae got his unit additional thirty laps, but he didn’t care. Of course soldiers were disgruntled, but they admired the balls Jongdae had to had to pull off such a stunt. But considering his thieving career (about which no one had no idea), that was really nothing.

He only made one mistake – he miscalculated his words. His adrenaline jumped when he saw her in the base, because what were the chances? And, on top of that, he saw her with another man, this time with lieutenant Park Chanyeol, and he wanted to embarrass the man, to look better in her eyes.

Which seemed like a great idea at the time – because how could he know that lieutenant is her _brother_? But now not only did he made an enemy out of her brother, there was also a chance that his father (her father!) would follow the suit.

Which, he had to admit, scared him to the bone.

But the red tint on her cheeks, and face brightening with laughter because of something _he_ did, was worth every enemy in the world.

So was her silhouette in that skirt.

As they ran for their laps, he kept looking over his shoulder on her slowly walking away, with fuming lieutenant at her side, and he saw that she kept looking back as well.

The private that was running next to him, looked back as well.

“Bloody hell, is she really general’s daughter?” Asked the fellow, and Jongdae smiled at him.

“Naw, dat, me fella, is me future lass.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So how did you like the base?” Asks your father, and you swallow the bit of meat you were just chewing. You take a sip of your wine, and you finally turn to your father, not caring to tone down your smile.

“I loved it, daddy!”

General Park seems pleasantly surprised, while Chanyeol scoffs in his plate.

You are still at the base, eating dinner in your father’s office. You are sitting next to the open window, and you can hear the usual sounds of the base, orders, rhythmic chants, shouts mixing with sounds of wind and nature.

Chanyeol is still very much offended by Jongdae, and you fear for him. For Jongdae obviously – you don’t want him to suffer, because of your brother.

“Is it base that you loved, or the soldiers?” Your papa asks sneakily, and you giggle, which makes him straighten with his eyebrows raised high.

“Was it a soldier indeed?”

Chanyeol scoffs once more, and you send him a glance, before turning back to your father, nodding shyly. If anyone in your family is to support you – it’s your father.

And general Park seems to understand, as he glances at his pouting son, and says nothing, but winks at you.

You hang your head, and smile into your plate, unable to contain yourself. You will have a chance to pitch your idea of a perfect life to your father – and now that idea pretty much includes Jongdae.

You freeze – realizing that’s true. You are infatuated with Jongdae, and you were for a really long time, probably since you saw him throw the newspaper on your porch. It’s both freeing and terrifying thought.

Especially when you know what is proper – and that Jongdae is nothing, but proper.

After the meal, your father sends Chanyeol away and offers you his arm. You take it, feeling like a big girl you are. General Park is a loving and dotting father, and you couldn’t wish for a warmer father.

“Your mother is going to be greatly disappointed.” It’s not a line you expected from him, and you hang your head, sucking your lips slightly into your mouth – you know this way, you won’t leave dents of your teeth in your skin, and you look on the dirty road you are walking on. “But it was never Jongin, was it?”

You nod slightly in answer, and he sighs.

“That boy is too handsome for his own good.” That is a sentiment you wholeheartedly agree with.

You walk in silence, and you glance around, wondering where Jongdae is now. You can still see soldiers outside, but you don’t know the pattern of their moves, so it would be impossible for you to find him.

“So who is the mysterious soldier, that you wanted to see so much that you decided to visit the base?” You look up, surprised, and you are met with your father’s laughing eyes. “Do you really believe I wouldn’t know something like that? When your whole life you were quite disregarding of uniforms?”

You blush, looking down at the tips of your shoes, and your father pats your hand on his arm.

“It’s Kim Jongdae?” You say in small voice.

“Kim Jongdae?” Repeats your father thoughtfully, slowly rolling the sounds on his tongue. “It doesn’t sound familiar, no.”

“Because he is only private.” You say, squinting slightly, annoyed at your own embarrassment.

“A private? And how did you met private Kim?”There is no condescending in your father words, which gives you courage to continue.

“He is the one that used to be our paper boy.”

Now general Park seems surprised.

“The one your mother hated so much? The Hollow hooligan?” He ensures, and you look to the side – you don’t like the sound of that.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Oh.” The soft exhale breaks your spirit. Is that it? Is your father going to be against him now? Because of his background.

You walk in silence, that only seems to dampen your mood.

“Do you like him? Private Kim?” Finally speaks your father, as if it taken him that long to battle with his thoughts.

“Yes, daddy, I do.” Your answer is proper, but you believe it’s a right answer to convey your commitment.

“Does he like you?” He asks after another prolonged period of silence. You can help, but laugh breathlessly.

“I certainly do hope so, daddy. I think so.”

***

“Private Kim!”

That was not an unusual thing for sergeant to shout out. Jongdae actually couldn’t remember even one day in his military time that his family name wasn’t shouted out with a dose of exasperation or anger.

He was not the only Kim in his troop or even in his barrack, but by now he could be certain it was him that sergeant called for.

“Aye, serge!” He answered jumping off his bed, he was just laying on. Sergeant’s head was in the cracked doors, as he assessed him.

“Put on some nice clothes, you’ve been called to the main office.”

That is met with restless murmur in the barrack. It’s been only a day since he made himself an enemy out of lieutenant Park, but his troop was already betting on how long it would take before general would get to know about Jongdae’s improper words to his _only_ daughter.

Jongdae was a cocky fellow. It was part of the culture back in the Hollow, but he wasn’t cocky enough not to understand how shitty was his situation.

Both his career and his love were in danger.

He put on his best uniform, and with his hear in his throat, he made his was to main office.

Corporal working as receptionist saluted him back, when he entered, but he didn’t acknowledge him otherwise, driving Jongdae way deeper into his paranoid state.

He stood at attention the whole time, even thought it wasn’t needed, but the strict position put him at ease.

At least until he heard an order coming from the office, that was to be led in.

Corporal led Jongdae into roomy, but quite Spartan office, where your country’s wartime hero had his office. The man himself was grey-haired, with bushy eyebrows and long nose, but his eyes looked so alike to _her eyes_.

“General Pa’k, sir! Private Kim Jon’ De, at your service!” Jongdae chanted as soon as he stopped in the middle of the room in front of the massive, but brusque, desk. He saluted properly, and general assessed him for a moment, then saluted back.

“At ease, private.” General had deep, but pleasant voice. Strangely soothing for a person with such background. Jongdae moved to stand at ease, careful for it to be perfect “at ease” position.

General Park looked at him without a word, and Jongdae could feel the perspiration gathering on his nape. The wait was the worst.

“I hear that you used to be my paper delivery boy?” It was not a thing Jongdae expected to hear, but his military instincts were fine and working, so he answered without a single thought.

“Aye, General Pa’k, sir!”

“How long did you do that for?”

“’round four years, sir!”

“That’s quite a long time.” Jongdae was silent, not knowing how to answer to that. “And what made you sign up for army?”

The conversation wasn’t going like Jongdae expected it to go, and it stressed him out even more. It’s the unknown that we usually fear.

“De love for the motherlan’, sir!” Answered Jongdae, and when he noticed that those bushy eyebrows moved up in disbelief, he added:” an’ want ter support me family, sir!”

“Commendable.” Somehow Jongdae managed to impress general, and it made him excited. If he managed to impress _her father…_ “Is it a big family to support?”

“Only me ma, grandmother an’ two sisters, sir!”

“No father?”

“Died at war, general Pa’k, sir!” That was greeted with silence. He once heard that general Park was in fact a very sensible man, and Jongdae wondered what he thought about his situation. But it also made him angry, the silence. His situation wasn’t unusual in Hollow – more, it was certainly common thing.

And he wasn’t going to allow anyone to pity him.

General cleared his throat, and Jongdae’s eyes darted to him, but he immediately looked up and focused on the wall, as if was expected from him.

What Jongdae didn’t see was general eyes darting to him, as he was growing uncomfortable – so close to finally touch what that meeting was really about.

He cleared his throat one more time, but Jongdae didn’t look down.

“I hear… I hear private Kim knows my daughter.”

Jongdae could feel cold panic seeping through his system. There it was. The thing he feared.

“Aye, general Pa’k, sir!”He wasn’t as sure as he was till this point while answering general’s queries. Both men in the room were stressed and embarrassed, and not ready to have this conversation. But neither of them could skip it.

“I see. I see… She… She did tell me about you, private Kim.” Jongdae lost his cool and proper stance, looking down in sheer disbelief. General Park met his eyes, and the embarrassment on his face told Jongdae that she did tell his father about him. Which surprised him, but also the elation he felt in that moment was something he could never explain with words.

“She did…?” He asked, surprisingly clearly, without his usual inflection, but he realized that he spoke in such improper way to his superior, so he straightened up with a jerk. “General Pa’k, sir!”

“She did. And she seems convinced. But mark my words – I am not about to give my daughter hand to a man that will not be able to support her in the future. But if one is willing to work, and climb up the ranks… I will be able to support that person.”

Jongdae swallowed, realizing how much of a threat it was. General could be a warm a loving person, but as a war hero he learnt how to be ruthless. And certainly for his only daughter he would be as ruthless as one could possibly be.

But it also was an opportunity Jongdae wasn’t about to pass.

“Aye, general Pa’k, sir!”

***

“I heard Jongin invited you to races?” You don’t allow yourself to show your disgruntlement. Your mother gushed about the invitation the whole day. You’ve heard her talking to all of her friends, one after one, all day spent on the phone. She excitedly chatted, forgetting to ask butler to ring her next friend, when she finished talking with one. You stayed out of her sight, not wanting to be involved in the conversation.

Races was this weekly event, that Uptown people were going to mingle, drink fine alcohols, under the pretense of watching races. You didn’t usually complain about going there – it was always quite juicy, with unexpected romances or scandalous gossips whispered over luxurious plates. And no one can really complain about jockeys in their tight, tight pants.

But being invited to the races, was entirely different thing. It was an official affair, since _everybody_ was there. It was a blatant statement of ownership, and you weren’t happy about being paired with Jongin.

Oh, he was sweet, and polite, and very gentleman like. He was also a very handsome boy, but he was perfect in this soft, delicate way that made you feel inadequate. And it’s been long since you realized you prefer rough, uncut gems.

“He certainly did.” You answer, and you can see Chanyeol smiling at you.

“Have you decided what to wear?” You look at your brother in silence, feeling how your anger boils in you. Neither he, nor your mother, entertained the idea that you might have refused. The truth was – you didn’t, but not because you didn’t want to. Jongin also didn’t expect you to say no, so he just stated what time he will come to see you.

It irked you. It irks you still, and you can’t even find the strength in you to answer.

“I am quite tired. I will go back to my room.” You mumble, and you don’t wait for Chanyeol to say anything, you just stand up and leave the room.

***

“Oi, lass!”

Jongdae was not supposed to be there. To say more, he was forbidden by law to be there, as he had his night watch duty tonight.

And it was exactly the reason why he was so far away of the base. Night watch was boring assignment. Nothing ever happened, and no one ever checked on those poor souls that were supposed to guard the base at night.

Jongdae didn’t plan it before. It was an idea that popped into his mind – and since he was quite hasty lad, he was jogging away from the base, before he even realized what was he doing.

Girl turned around eyeing him warily. She had a bucket in her hand, and her face was dirty from ash.

“Yer canny be ‘ere.” She said, and her teeth flashed, so much whiter than her face.

“Easy. Oi just ‘av a question.” The chimney girl, cleared her throat, and she extended her hand. Jongdae bit back a smile. That was exactly why he was waiting behind the outhouse.

Usually servants were loyal to their family. They wouldn’t betray them in any way. At least – the daytime servants. The rest, employed to do various odd-jobs around house when the family was sleeping… Those were ready to sell their employers secrets for a right price.

And usually, those nighttime workers came from Hollow – so it was easier to communicate anyway. In Hollow, the language that anyone speaks is money.

It was easy for him to be paying for information, and to not being paid for it, but he didn’t dwell on his new, more elevated status. He pushed few coins into that dirty hand, and he didn’t miss how girl deflated, when she realized that he won’t show her where he keeps his money. He nearly laughed, the girl thought she would steal from _him_?

The girl counted the coins, and stuffed it hastily into her apron.

“Ask.” She said brusquely.

“Where is de young lass room? House’s daughter.”

“Second floor, right win’, front of de birch.” Came quick answer, and chimney girl walked away, her metal bucket clinking with her every step.

Jongdae turned around to assess the house. He found the right tree, and he found the right window, and a sigh escaped his mouth. He did climb higher buildings, but it wasn’t like he really wanted to do that right now.

What Jongdae never understood was Uptown people’s obsession with decorating exteriors of their houses. It was so easy to climb up, and potentially steal something.

Something like a maiden.

Jongdae deliberately chose a corner for his way up. It might have been the most visible place from around the building, but no one would be outside at this hour. On the other way, corner route would allow him to hide from windows, should anyone wander by.

The thrill of climbing reminded him of his younger years. He reached the roof, and he carefully made his way to the right wing, once again finding the birch. He looked down, but the wall underneath him looked exactly like every other wall of this building, so he simply let himself down on the window sill on the third floor, and then onto the one under it.

If chimney girl didn’t lie to him, that was her window.

Preparing himself for a quick escape, he knocked on the glass.

How catastrophic it would be if that was lieutenant Park’s window?

Nothing happened, for a minute (Jongdae counted in his head), so he tried again – now doubting everything he’d done so far. That was stupid, irresponsible, and quite dangerous.

He didn’t hear anything except for the wind playing with leaves, and it made him feel anxious.

Suddenly the window swung open, and he jerked in surprised, at the haste, but when he understood that the person he is looking at is the one he came to see, he felt at ease.

“What are you doing here!” It was a question, posted as an exclamation, and the phrase was filled with so many emotions – surprise, anger, excitement, a very broad spectrum.

He sat down on the sill, legs in her room, and she backed up, to make him room. She looked youthful in her night gown, and locks messy, and free of any confinement.

“Oi came ter see yer.” He said, shrugging, as if that was obvious. “Oi missed yer.”

He immediately realized that was the right thing to say. She smiled, brightly, of so brightly, and he could see her rosy cheeks even in the dark. Truthfully, Jongdae was content to do just that – to look at her, both shy and bashful, mindless of her inappropriate state.

She was the one to raise her hand, in a very clear invitation, and he took it, without a single thought, and he kissed her hand.

*

No one saw him leave his post, and no one saw him returning. He didn’t want to come back, and she didn’t want him to leave, even as she urged him to go back.

In the morning, when he was relieved of his duty, he packed his duffel bag, ready to visit his family.

Girls are as hyper as always, Hyejin slowly coming out of her shell. Hyemi is a tornado-incarnation, but Jongdae is so happy to see them, healthy, and growing, and learning. He finally managed to send both of them to school, _normal_ school, and girls loved it. Grandma and mom were always happy and at ease when he came back, and he could see that now, they were the best in years.

Him signing up, was the best decision in his life.

He might have said that before, but it didn’t make it less true.

The life of his bunch was also slowly changing. Junmyeon started working as an apprentice to a locksmith, which was quite fitting, considering his past. Minseok took up accordion seriously and by now he was a part of a wedding band, and Baekhyun… Baekhyun opened one of those crooky schools, were pupils learned not only Maths and reading, but also stealing.

All in all, their activities were mostly legal.

“Tomorrow we ‘ill be playin’ next to de Auld Barn.” Minseok said, as he passed the bottle to Junmyeon. It was a hooch made by Baekhyun’s mother, and while the taste was awful, the percentage was decent, so they were making rounds with the bottle hidden inside a paper bag, sitting on the stairs in front of Baekhyun’s ”school”.

“’ill yer?” Mused Junmyeon indifferently, and took a healthy gulp. He scrunched his face as soon as the liquid flew down his throat. “It’s manky.”

Baekhyun shrugged, and yanked the bottle out of Junmyeon’s hand.

“Don’t draink, yer pussy.” Junmyeon tried to protest, but Jongdae’s laugh made it impossible for him. Baekhyun took a quick sip, and passed the bottle to Jongdae.

“Aye. There ‘ill be a place ter dance an’ all.” Continued Minseok, quite ignored.

“A place ter dance?” Repeated Baekhyun, incredulous. “What for?”

“Ter dance, ya dickhead.” Snapped Minseok, and Jongdae laughed, allowing the horrible alcohol to invade his mouth. It really was disgusting. But he was already drunk, so he didn’t feel the taste that well, so he could manage. He forced the bottle into Minseok’s hand. “With lasses.”

And that was the right thing to say, to grab men attention.

“We can invite birds?” Asked Baekhyun, but his face was already lit up.

“Aye. But don’t yer dare to invite me sister.” Baekhyun defalted visibly and Jongdae laughed.

Jongdae was hammered. There was no way around that, he was simply pissed, probably from not drinking for so long. But he was happy and content, and he definitely had a girl to invite over for dances.

He could hear the incoming tram, so he stood up from the step, legs wonky. He exhaled through his nose, blinking, to lose the dizziness.

“Gentleman.” He said in perfectly clean language, and his friends looked at him in horror. “I will make my way.”

“Yer nuts, Jon’de!” Exclaimed Junmyeon and tried to catch Jongdae’s wrist, but soldier was already walking away, not in a straight line, either. Baekhyun stood up.

“Aye! Jon’de! Where ye headin’!”

“Forward!” Laughed Jongdae. He didn’t say anything else, because tram was already rolling past him. He jumped in, which was very brave of him (but drunk people are generally brave), and he paid for a ticket.

“Yer man is nuts.” Commented Minseok, and Junmyeon nodded, taking a bottle from him – since Baekhyun was focused on the tram.

“Yer man is nuts for dat Uptown lass.” Added Junmyeon, taking a sip.

Baekhyun turned around abruptly, eyes open wide.

“Yer bleedin’ see dat!” His arms flailed. “Yer man paid for a bleedin’ ticket!”

*

When Jongdae reached Uptown, he was still pretty much hammered, but at least now, he knew that. But it didn’t stop him from walking down the maze of those pristine white buildings to see _her_.

As it happened, she was outside. She was outside on her way to see a play. With her three friends at her side, and Yixing as a chaperone. As it happened, she saw him first. And not because, she saw him, but because Sodam pointed to Jongdae on the other side of the street, with her glove clad hand. She turned to Yixing, her eye pleading, and he understood immediately, ushering the three of her friends forward.

“Jongdae!” She called to him, crossing the street. He saw her, and he smiled, waving excitedly. “What are you doing here?” She asked, stopping in front of him – Jongdae reeked of liquor, and she could smell it.

“I came to see yer.” He answered, slurring, and took a step, but he lost his balance. She surged forward, grabbing his arm, and forcefully guiding him to sit down.

“That is sweet of you, really, but… What for?” She didn’t want to point out his obvious state, and she worried. About him, and about what people would think if they saw them together like that. She looked around.

“I was drinking with the fellas, and Minseok is in the band, and I wanted to invite yer for a dancing tomorrow!” Her heart did swell. In the end, he was pissed drunk, and yet he came all the way from Hollow to see her to invite her out.

But her logical mind focused on something else.

“What happened to your accent, Jongdae?”

“Do I sound like Uptowner? It’s for yer, my love! It’s only ever for yer!” Jongdae could be drunk out of his mind, but his heart knew exactly what he should do. He smiled, when her glove clad hand, caressed his hair.

“Come here, Jongdae, we have to get you downtown.” She said quietly, helping him stand up.

“I’m not going anywhere, unless yer say yer gonna go.”He persisted, eyes closing, as he fought to stand. He didn’t see her smile, nor did he see the red tinge on her cheeks.

“I will go, Jongdae, I will. And now, let’s go.”

***

Surprisingly your vast wardrobe is not enough. You stand in front of it, browsing for something _just right_ , and nothing catches your eyes. Boonyi tries her best to help you, even your mother comes, delighted with the commotion.

But every outfit they choose, although beautiful, would be perfect for races.

And well, you are not going to attend those.

“Boonyi.” You call out finally, and young maid stops folding clothes.

“Miss?”

“Have you ever happened to go to the dancing party?” You ask, caressing your hair, fully focused on your reflection in the mirror, to look indifferent.

“I did, miss.” Boonyi answered, face a little judging.

“And would you reckon – is there anything in my wardrobe that wouldn’t stand out that much in such an environment?” Boonyi’s eyebrows raise as if to say that your language is enough to single you out at the dancing. You understand and you blush.

“But miss, Uptown’s races are a very different event from Little Town’s dancing.” You nip at dry bit of your lip with your teeth, not wanting to look at your maid. There is a silence for a moment. “But if I were to choose I think that red polka-dot dress with elasticized camisole top would do nicely.”

Your eyes fall to the aforementioned dress, after maid’s offhand comment. You don’t even know why you have that dress, you’ve never worn it.

But it seems like today is going to be your first time.

“Accessories?” You ask, and Boonyi is smart enough not to comment.

“Not much, miss. Gloves, bracelet, pearls maybe? And white pumps?” She is questioning, but you don’t answer – you can trust Boonyi to choose your outfits, but not with your secrets. Especially in this home, where walls have ears. To be exact, your mother’s ears.

You dismiss Boonyi, who doesn’t seem – she is disappointed, and you go about preparing for your _date_. But not the one everyone believes you’ll go to.

When you are finished, you are not sure what you are looking at (especially after Boonyi comes to do your hair) – it’s a beautiful girl, but she is much more… Sharp than you ever were. And you like that.

You grab your tote bag and you make your way downstairs, where your brother, mother and father are playing cards. There is still time left for the hour Jongin said to pick you up, and there is even more time till the races starts, so they don’t need to hurry.

Your butlers sees you first, and he opens his mouth to say something, so you quickly press your forefinger to your mouth. He looks perplexed, and he turns around to the entrance to the living room. Your father is looking at you and the butler, and he shakes his head, ever so slightly. Butler nods, and doesn’t say nothing.

You blow quick kiss to your father, so thankful to have an ally in this house, and you tiptoe till you are out of the possible sight of your mother or Chanyeol, and then till you reach the main entrance. Butler politely opens doors for you, and you wonder what does he think of you. In this moment.

In about an hour Jongin is going to come, and your family is going to find out that you are long gone, God knows where to.

But the worst thing is – you are not even feeling guilty. Had they listened, they would have known. Like your father does.

It really freeing thing. It’s your first time walking alone to the tram stop, it’s your first time boarding it alone, but somehow you don’t feel scared, but excited.

Jongdae is waiting at you where he slurred you, he’ll be. You were so anxious if he was going to remember what happened yesterday, but since he is there – he must have. He is wearing his full Hollow attire, and you love it from the top of his cabbie cap till his slightly worn out shoes. You don’t care that other passengers are staring at you, when he jogs next to the tram, and helps you down, both hands on your waist.

“Yer look quite bonny, lass.” He says as a greeting, and you beam, when you realize that he is honest, eyeing you appreciatively.

“Thank you. And I am happy that your accent is back.” You say, with a smile you can’t contain. Your hand finds its way to Jongdae’s arm, and he looks immensely pleased about that. “Don’t ever lose it, I am quite fond of it.”

“Understud.” Muses Jongdae, lifting his cap in a greeting. He is still gentleman-like when he shows you the way, but there is a cheekiness, that you just adore.

There, here it is, you adore this Hollow hooligan – and him visiting you in the middle of the night, to come by the next day pissed drunk – just to see you? You adore him, and quite frankly, by now you could say you are _in love_ with him.

As Jongdae leads you through Hollows, he shows you buildings and shops, and he keeps talking. You understand maybe a third of what he is saying, but it’s not important, because he is fully focused on you, and the corners of his lips keep turning even more up every so often, and his left eyebrow seems to have a mind of its own, and there are slight wrinkles around his eyes when he smiles.

The end of your walk seems to be a big, old barn, with its old gate wide open. You can hear music and laughter, and steps, and all the sounds indicating that there are people inside, people that are having fun.

Your hand grips Jongdae’s arm, slightly tighter, but you relax, when he turns to you. It’s only excitement, either way.

You are wary when you leads you inside. You don’t know what to expect really, but you are quite sure that you are not going to blend in with the crowd.

The thing is – you quite do. The inside of the building still looks like a barn, but all of the things you’d expect in the barn are gone (thank God). There are wooden chests and barrels under the walls serving as seats and tables. On one side there is a band playing some rhythmic and fast song, and most of the people are gathered in the middle of the room.

You did your fair share of dancing in your life, for ten years you were doing ballet (which was a must for any proper girl), but you’ve never seen something like that. You’ve danced with partners as well, take your Debutante Ball as an example. But you’ve never seen something so wild, and free, and energetic.

Most of girls wear the same type of dress – snug blouse with wide skirt, polka-dots and stripes everywhere. But the materials are different, and you don’t spot any petticoat. You also don’t see any other pair of gloves around.

You look down, to your own pristine-white gloves, and your heart skips a beat. You don’t really go outside without them. You never go outside without them. But another glance at the dancers, are happy and seemingly trouble-less, and you glance at Jongdae who is palpably excited, and you quickly take your gloves off, and stuff it in your tote bag.

“Jon’de!” Familiar looking man is calling for Jongdae, as he leaves the crowd, dragging giggling girl behind him. They are both flushed and their eyes are shining, and they seem so alive, that you can’t help but fill the adrenaline in your veins.

“Bek’yun! Minsok is gonna hang yer ass.” Jongdae shakes his head, when they stop in front of the two of you. Baekhyun ignores him, not hiding his curiosity, when he looks at you.

“Let ‘imself try. Oi know how to deal with me brother.” Answers girl instead of Baekhyun and focuses on you.” Nice ter meet yer, Oi’m Minji, younger sister of dat accordionist over der. He and dose fellas are close lads.”

“Nice to meet you, Minji.” You say, and you see how her eyes widen the moment you start speaking.

“Bek’yun.” Says Baekhyun as a way of introduction and then he focuses on Jongdae. “Oi don’t know what is more unbelievable: dat yer invited Uptown lassy ‘ere, or dat she came.”

You are not really sure why it annoys you, but it does. You have to suffer people talking over you and about you at home, you are not going to stand that here, in Hollow, place you believe to be land of freedom.

“I am right here.” You say with a bright smile, and Baekhyun seems taken aback. Jongdae just shows his teeth in a smile, and he frees his arm from your hold, so he can entwine fingers with you.

“Oi think we are gonna dance. See yer ‘raund fellas!”

You forget about Baekhyun as soon as Jongdae leads you to the dancing floor. It’s more of a dancing soil, but you are not going to complain, when Jongdae’s dry and calloused fingers finds yours.

Panic hits you.

“Jongdae, I can’t dance.” You usher hurriedly, and he seems surprised for a split of a second.

“Don’t be dense, t’be sure yer can dance.” He says, and you want to oppose, but he is already spinning you. It’s against your senses – you don’t dance like that. Your dance is more static, more refined, and when the room is spinning around you, you feel lost. The music is loud, and exciting and foreign, so are the sounds that accompany you. You are not used to loud laughing, nor excited exclamations, you are not used to other couples brushing by you, and you are drowning in your environment, and it suffocates you and it scares you.

There is a strong tug on your arms, and you stumble forward, right into Jongdae’s arms, one of them coming to support your lower back. He smells of soap and dust and the smell is quite generic, and his collar shirt isn’t as soft as you remember Jongin’s to be.

You spin around, this time together, and you look up to see Jongdae’s eyes shining, and his teeth showing through his lips parted in smile, and it grounds you. The scene is still unfamiliar and you have yet to find your footing – but the moment you decide, that you can trust him, that as long as he leads you, nothing will happen to you, the moment you relax into Jongdae’s hands, you realize how amazing Hollow’s dancing is.

It’s wild, the dance, but Jongdae is sure, when he leads you, every step coming as a surprised to you. You don’t know whether he is going to be spin you around, or if he is going to bring you close, or maybe he’ll spin. Or maybe you’ll spin together.

Nylon is clinging to your skin, and you are thankful for the up-do supported with a bow, because your nape is sticky with your sweat, and you’d hate for your hair to fly around. Your wide skirt is brushing your legs with your every step, and not one, nor twice Jongdae grabs the folds of it to make it spin away from you. Every so often your knees are exposed, and you realize that you don’t care – no one finds that improper, and you see girls bringing their skirts up to make it easier for them to dance.

It’s exciting, it’s amazing, it’s new, it’s freeing. You soon realize you love every step you take, you love every touch of Jongdae’s hands on your skin, and you love every smile he sends you. Your heart is beating faster than it should be, adrenaline, exertion and, simply, love flowing through your veins.

When he asks you if you had enough, you just shake your head, and Jongdae laughs, loudly, bashfully, and throws away his cap, and you grab two fistfuls of his white collar shirt, linen unfamiliar under your fingers and you bring him forward, and you kiss him.

You are drunk on dance, on the atmosphere and him, and he’ll be damned if he didn’t feel the same. Couples around you are still dancing as if in trance, music is still loud, and light of torches that were lit up to illuminate the room after sun went down, shakes and paints odd, ever-changing patters on your skins, and Jongdae’s fingers on your face are warm, and the kiss is sweet.

It’s improper, but no one seems to notice you, everybody drunk on their own partners. You have your eyes closed, tongue tasting Jongdae on your lips, and when you open your eyes he is so close you can see the specters of torches’ light in his irises. He bites his lip, mindless of the teeth marks he is going to leave, and then his left eyebrow arches up, and you laugh, because you know he is going to spin you, even before he starts.

*

He walks you back. The tram is no longer going, so he walks you back to Uptown in the middle of the night. It’s summer, and it’s warm, but even if it wasn’t Jongdae’s hand on yours is enough to warm you up.

The walk itself is nice, and you talk, you talk a lot, and you find yourself understanding much more than you used to. More than once Jongdae stops, and he kisses you, and more than twice you are the one to stop to kiss him. It’s sweet and exciting, and you can’t seem to be able to stop enjoying it.

All the windows in your house are lit up. For a moment, you can feel the anxiety arising, but Jongdae squeezes your hand, and suddenly you are not afraid.

You’ve already decided.

The moment the two of you pass the threshold of the house, Jongdae’s hand is yanked out of yours. It’s a split of a second, but as soon as Chanyeol sees the two of you, he just attacks Jongdae, pushing him into the wall.

“I will kill you, you bloody Hollow bastard!–“ He screams, and you turn around, ready to grab Chanyeol to pry him off Jongdae, fear and anger mixing in your gut, but you see Jongdae’s face all calm and stoic, and it reassures you.

“Park Chanyeol, behave yourself!” Surprisingly, it’s your mother who scolds Chanyeol.

“But mommy, this bloody…”

“Don’t you dare swear in my house!” She yells, and now you consider going for cover. The scariest person in this household is your mother and that is sure.

Your brother is still boiling with anger, but he knows better than to defy mother, so his hands drops to his sides, balled into fists, and he takes a step back. Jongdae straightens his shirt, and sends you a quick glance.

“And you, young man, thank you for escorting my daughter back home, but it’s time for you to leave.” She says, voice polite, but cold.

“But, mommy!” You try to speak up – she is calm, which you consider your chance, so you decide to take it. She turns around to you, eyes piercing, and you realize that you’ve misjudged the situation. She is so furious that she’s calm.

“It’s a family matter, and it’s better you go back, young man.” She repeats, and Jongdae throws you a helpless glance, before he is escorted out by your butler.

Now you are alone, and now you are scared.

Mother goes to the official living room, and you know that if you don’t follow her there will be a hell to pay. Your father is inside in his pajamas and in his slippers, looking like he’d prefer to be anywhere else than here, drinking scotch on rocks.

You immediately sit down in the air chair next to him. Butler comes to ask whether you’d like to drink something and you ask for a tea, while your mother sits down next to your father, and Chanyeol takes the armchair in front of you.

Chanyeol takes a sip of his own scotch.

“How could you do something like that?” Asks mother, disappointment palpable in her words. “How could you disgrace us like that? The poor boy came here to only realize that you’d stood him up!”

“He is my friend! How am I going to face him?”

“What am going to tell all of my friends? That my daughter preferred Hollow hooligan to that fine young man?”

“What are people going to say?”

“You are bringing shame to this family!”

While your mother and brother don’t stop their litany of accusations, your father is silent, drinking his scotch. You are silent as well, the tea that butler brought you, slowly getting cold. You are used to that. To being the side that only listens.

But you are not going to allow them to say that loving Jongdae is a shame to this family. Love in never shameful.

“Had you just once asked me about my feelings, no one would have needed to feel ashamed.” You say quietly.

“Excuse me, what are you mumbling?” Asks your mother, voice threatening. You ball your firsts on your knees, and look up.

“Never once had I said that I like Jongin. Never once did I seek his attention, or bring him a token of my feelings for him. Had you once, just once, asked me about it, in turn to just deciding for me that I like him, that situation would have never happened. But I am sorry, although I am not sorry, I am not going to marry Kim Jongin. Even if there is a hell to pay, I’ve decided that I want to be Mrs. Kim Jongdae, the wife of the private, the wife of the Hollow hooligan, and you’d better get your heads around that.” You can see the horror and anger mixing on your mother’s face. “Because it’s Jongdae that I will meet at the altar, and it’s your choice whether you are going to witness it or not.”

You say, adrenaline once more guiding your actions.

You stand up hastily, not wanting to spend any second longer in this room, and you storm out. You can see your mother standing up, and you know that the hell is about to be open, but you don’t care.

You see in the corner of your eye, that your father, for the first time tonight intervenes, grabbing your mother’s arm and bringing her back to sit down.

You run up to your room, and you close the doors behind yourself, and you rest against them, feeling how your chest heaves.

There. You said it.

And now they know.

It was scary but exhilarating experience, and you slowly, ever so slowly, you can feel warmth spreading through your limbs. You gathered your courage and you said that, and you quite openly declared your feelings.

It’s good.

There is a knock on your window, and you realize Jongdae is on the sill. Happiness explodes in your gut, and you walk over to him, and you open the windows, and he lets his legs down, but when you try to take a step back, but he grabs your hand.

“Mrs. Kim Jon’de, aye?” He asks, bashful smirk on his face. You blush.

“You’ve heard that?”

“Aye. Oi had ter make sure yer are a’ight. An’ yer weren’t exactly quiet, lassy.” His hand comes up to caress your face, and you lean into the touch.

“But I still expect you to propose to me properly.” You say, eyes flying open.

“Understud.” He is laughing at you, but you can’t bring yourself to care. With his eyes focused on your face, you can feel the feelings from the Old Barn awakening anew in your gut, so you bend a little to kiss him.

It’s not important what happened downstairs. Important is what happened downtown. Jongdae kisses you back, hands grabbing folds of your skirt, and you realize how much he likes that dress. You can feel his hands caressing your legs through the fabrics, and you enjoy that, and you enjoyed the undivided attention your lips get.

“Wait.” You whisper against his lips. His eyebrows jump up, but you say nothing, when you free yourself from his hands. You try to walk away, but he is holding you by the hem of your dress.

“Jongdae!” You hiss, with a laughter in your voice, and he just shrugs playfully. You try to yank it out of his hands, but he doesn’t want to let go. “Jongdae!”

“Oi think ransom is gonna be needed.” He says, and you shake your head and go back and you kiss him once more. When you stop, he looks blissful.

“You are dumb.” You say, without any spite in your words. This time he doesn’t stop you when you walk away. You reach your doors and you turn the key in the lock. The sound is loud enough for Jongdae to hear, and when you turn around his elbow is on his knee, his chin resting on it, and his eyebrows are drawn high.

“What about yer ma?” He asks, and his voice is quite raspy. It’s a new, exciting sound. You rest against the doors, hands shyly hidden behind you.

You know exactly what you are doing. Society might prefer you oblivious, but you are not as closeted as people think. You attended school, and you’ve learnt biology, and you have an older brother with group of friends that weren’t exactly shy to talk about _those things_ , when they thought they were alone.

Chanyeol should have known better. You are never alone in the house with servants and curious little sister.

“Well, I think you’ll have to take responsibility for what you have done.” You say, blinking innocently.

“Oi haven’t done anythin’ yet.” He says, bending a little more forward.

“I sure hope you are about to.” Jongdae just laughs, and he stands up, slowly walking to you. You look at him, seemingly indifferently, but you can feel your heart speeding up.

Jongdae stops bare centimeters from you, one of his forearms resting on the wood above your head with other hand playing with the fabrics of your skirt.

“Oi saw yer starin’ at me muscles, lassy.” He says, and you recognize the line from when you met him at the base. You can’t help but be reminded of his naked torso glistening in the sun all sweaty. “So Oi thought Oi would give yer a bonus.”

You thread your fingers through his hair, taking his cabbie cap in the process. You put it on your head, and you grab the bandanna on his neck.

“Oi tink yer should do dat.” You say, trying your best to imitate his way of speaking, and you use your hold on the bandanna to bring him closer.

He smiles into the kiss, but he clearly has something different on his mind, because instead of chastely kissing you at the doors, his hands fall to your legs, fingers threading through your dress’ folds, and he picks you up, and he throws you over his shoulder.

You squeak, trying to keep your voice down, and you giggle. Jongdae walks few steps back and he throws you on your body, in the exact moment in which you realize you are pretty close to his butt.

You are still bouncing on your mattress, when Jongdae starts to climb on.

“Shoes!” You hiss, stopping him in his tracks. He looks down, and he sees his ankle high boots. He mumbles something, but he sits down on the bed, and starts unlacing them. You get on your knees, and you come closer to him, gluing yourself to his back, with your arms around his neck, and your chin on his shoulder.

He hums something, and his chest vibrates, and you start playing around with his suspenders, and then move up to his bandanna. You undo the knot, when first boot falls next to your bed.

Jongdae grabs your hands, and his head turns around slightly, so he can better see you.

“Yer sure?” He asks, and you stop for a second, only to take off his bandanna.

“Why? Would you like to wait till wedding?” You ask, throwing the piece of fabrics onto your side table. Jongdae takes one of your hands and kisses it.

“Oi could.”

“But I couldn’t.” You deadpan, and Jongdae laughs, second boot falling down.

“Gran’.” He says and he stands up. He turns around and frees himself of his suspenders. You half expect his pants to just fall, but they don’t and you feel privy to a secret – they use the suspenders as a fashion statement. He does a quick work of his shirt, and for the second time you can see his chest, but this time around it’s way better, because now – you can touch.

Now it’s yours.

He bends down to kiss you while he is still standing and it leaves you breathless and excited, with your head spinning just like back at the Old Barn.

“Yer like me muscles?” He asks quite bashful, lips brushing yours.

“Yes, I do like your muscles, Jongdae. But I am really waiting for my bonus.” His mouth twitches in amusement, and he finally joins you on the bed, your hands sliding down his naked back. Skin is hot and smooth, not like his own hands, which are sliding down your sides. Once again they tangle into the folds of it, and he looks at your face.

“Oi’ve really wanted ter do dat.” He says, and before you can ask him, what he wanted to do, he yanks your skirt up, and you sit up alarmed, and he hides under it, his hands falling onto your naked legs for the first time, and you giggle embarrassed, and your knees squeeze together out of their own volition.

“Jongdae!” You are not sure whether you are scolding him or you are not, but his hands go up your legs, onto your thighs.

“Yer legs are a tin’ of beauty.” He says as an answer and you fall down on the bed with an exasperated huff. There is a blush on your cheeks, and a pleasant tingle on your head. You relax enough for Jongdae to slowly pry your legs open.

You suddenly can’t remember what underwear you are wearing today.

He kisses the inside of your thigh, and your hands fists on your duvet, and you gasp, because his hair is tickling you, and it is

“I can’t believe you are under my skirt.” You say once more exasperated, and his laughter sends a huff of air that caresses your sensitive skin.

“Me lassy, Oi canny believe me luck either.” Comes a cheeky answer, and truthfully, that was enough to put you at ease.

***

Jongdae didn’t expect that at all. Of course he didn’t, the whole notion was so foreign that he couldn’t believe it happened, even after it happened.

He woke up disoriented, warm and laying on the softest mattress he ever slept on. The first thing he saw was quite classy, but definitely luxurious wallpaper, and his red bandanna on the wooden side table, and his boots laying askew on the carpet.

Suddenly it all came back to him – how hot her skin was, how she blushed and gasped, and how she threw away his innocence, bashfully allowing him to lover her fully.

He didn’t expect that to happen.

He slowly turned around, quite sure that she’d be there, and she was, still sleeping, naked shoulders above the covers. Jongdae turned around, to study her face – it was peaceful, and young, and beautiful, and her lips were still a little swollen, and he remembered kissing her over and over again, whenever she gasped, whenever she keened, whenever her fingers tangled into his hair, whenever she asked for it – never with words, but with intent eyes and dexterous fingers.

Kissing her could be enough for him – it was more than he ever expected to get, but she gave him so much more.

Skin of her neck was soft and pristine. More than once his lips slid down the column of her neck, but he couldn’t bring himself to mark it. It was so beautiful, so pure, that any markings would be a blemish. And he remembered how tempted he was, when she craned her neck, trashing on the bed, eyes slid shut, with her fingers fisting and unfisting on her duvet, how she brought her fist down, how she bit on it, and how he couldn’t stop watching, her naked skin glistening from her sweat, so beautifully contrasted with her dark duvet.

As if to confirm his memories, his eyes fell to her hand, where he could see the dents of her teeth on her forefinger. It brought a warm smile to his face, and he couldn’t help himself anymore. It was still dark outside, way too early for an Uptowner to wake up, but it was a normal time for Hollow boy _and_ private. His hand found her side, and nested itself on the her waist. She smacked her lips together, and shifted closer, and Jongdae just brought her closer, allowing her to use one of his arms as a pillow. She shifted, one of her arms resting on his side, and one of her legs finding its way between Jongdae’s.

Up close he could see her eyelashes on her cheeks, and he could feel how her breasts moved against his chest with every calm breath, and his hand on her back, reminded him of past night once more.

When he held her hips up, for ready for himself, with anxiety at anticipation mixing in her eyes, and her legs twitched at his sides, and when he was already sheathed inside her, how she surrounded him with that impossible heat and that impossible pressure, and how her breath hitched, when he moved, and how she couldn’t stop staring at him, long after they both lost words. And later, when they couldn’t keep her eyes open.

She was so shy and yet so bashful in her pleasure, especially when Jongdae applied what he learned from more experienced privates at the base about woman body.

It was amazing, it was just amazing, but the best part still – was her.

*

Tram number two was rolling slowly down the street, as it always used to. The air was hot and stale, as always. Barefoot children were running on next to the tracks, playing loudly, while older kids stood on the corners, wearing cabbie caps, bandannas and suspenders. They observed the tram number two, because they knew what Hollow citizens knew best – tram was full of schnook. And schnook is a target.

Because Hollow boys don’t attack their own, only schnooks.

The world was easy to divide. There was Hollow, so the fellow lads, there was Little City, filled with not-that-loaded schnooks, and Uptown with really-loaded schnooks.

The world was easy to divide, up till this point. Because on that day the unthinkable was happening. Everyone in Hollow knew that, and they whispered excitedly on the corners. Everyone in Uptown knew that, and they for them that was the juiciest gossip as well.

Because inside the tram number two there were two young girls pushing their faces to the window, excited to be leaving Hollow for the first time in their life. There was also an old lady, and middle aged one, looking over the girls with indulgent smiles. There was full band, with the accordionist talking to two young men, neither of whom could believe what was happening. It was baffling enough for accordionist not to say a world while he looked at his sister seated next to the one of the two.

Because inside the tram number two there was a man, who believed in himself, and now dressed in smart black suit, on his way Uptown, there was a groom, ready to tie the knot with the girl that had chosen him.

**Author's Note:**

> The thing is - this is basically story of my grandparents, and I was inspired today, because my cousin, which always finds old family pictures found a picture of my grandpa wearing the outfit I described so many times in this part, and then I started listening to Uptown Girl, and I drilled a hole in my brain with this song for the last 7hours.
> 
> The thing is placed in the city eerily resembling Warsaw just after WWII.
> 
> The accent thing - god, I am sorry for it, I hope I will not offend anyone. It’s weird, because I want it to be in thick accent, but to be readable (except for her POV, because I want her to not understand him and except for Granny, cause I figured she’d have even stronger accent).


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